


The False Queen

by ArtjuiceRP



Series: The Swan-Feather Cloak [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtjuiceRP/pseuds/ArtjuiceRP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 3 of 'The Swan-Feather Cloak' Trilogy.</p><p>Princess Emma has finally returned home after months searching for her son, Henry. However, after barely a month, Emma, her son and her father have to flee the palace. The only chance they have to return is if they venture to the Evil Queen’s castle and take back what’s theirs. Luckily, Emma knows just the pirate who can help them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The third part of the trilogy. If you haven't read the previous two stories, I'd suggest reading them first as this will probably make more sense if you have done that.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> And thanks to HawkEye733 for betaing!

#  ** Chapter 1 **

Her reflection looked wrong. The dress was beautiful, pure white with a cinched waist and delicate ivory flowers embroidered on the sleeves, but when Emma looked at herself in it, all she wanted to do was take it off and put it away, somewhere she would never have to see it again.

It didn’t fit well anymore. Weeks spent walking through forests with little food had made her thinner, and now the dress needed to be laced tighter, like a trap. The red lines on her arm, scars from her fight with flying monkeys weeks before, stood out brightly against the white of the dress. Although Killian had made her find them beautiful, she didn’t feel that way anymore. Not in this dress.

She had worn the dress before, months earlier, and although she hadn’t enjoyed wearing it back then, it hadn’t created the sense of wrongness it did now.

She wanted it off, but this was something she had to do. Even though it pained her to even consider such a thing, she had no choice. Too many people had died for her to be selfish now.

Emma grimaced and then turned away from the mirror, collapsing into a nearby chair and sighing as the dress flounced around her. Today was one of the days where she wished she had never come home, had instead taken Henry to the Jolly Roger and enjoyed the freedom she had found on it. She had heard that ignorance was bliss, and as selfish as she felt the thought was, she couldn’t help but wonder what her life would be like now if she was sailing the seas with Killian, unaware of her kingdom’s problems.

Even all the kingdom’s troubles would be more bearable with Killian beside her.

But a month had come and gone and he wasn’t there.

And she _missed_ him.

The worst thing about his delayed return was that she still believed he was coming back to her. However, the longer she waited, the harder it was to cling to that belief. She may have been certain that he would return, but the more time he was away from her, the more she worried something had happened to him.

He wouldn’t leave her. She had never believed she could be so certain of something, especially when it came to trusting another person, but with Killian she knew that something had to have happened to keep him away.

Unfortunately, unless he came back within the next few hours, it would be too late. Thoughts of a simple happy life together would be no more than daydreams, an impossibility.

She fisted her hands in her skirt, trying to keep herself from imagining varying scenarios that could have delayed him, the silk crumpling in her hands, and then it was too much. She couldn’t look down and see the dress she hated, the dress that symbolised the marriage she was about to trap herself in.

Determined not to think about that, she scanned the room, looking for the cloak she knew was somewhere. Her swan-feather cloak was something she hadn’t worn since she and her son had returned home, as it carried too many memories that made her yearn for the life she had imagined, with Henry and Killian.

It was nothing like the life she was about to give in to.

For the first time since her return, she tied the cloak around her neck, adjusting it so when she looked down, her wedding dress wasn’t visible. She closed her eyes, desperate not to cry as she remembered how Killian had been so eager for her to stop wearing it, how he had teased the ribbons near her neck when they spoke, wrapped her up in it before they slept in the woods, slipped his arms beneath it whenever he embraced her.

Emma remembered what he’d said to her once, that if they were apart, she had to know that his heart would always belong to her. She still clung to those words, still believed them, because he had done too much for her to doubt him now.

But today, she couldn’t bear to think about Killian. Thoughts about him led to daydreams of him bursting through the palace doors before she said ‘I do’ and stealing her away, her son by her side, and Emma hadn’t allowed herself to be a romantic since Baelfire, but those images were too appealing for her not to wish they would come true.

And she knew they wouldn’t, which only made everything hurt so much more.

She closed her eyes, determined to take all the feelings that were haunting her and bury them, just for that day, so she could do what needed to be done, but when she felt a warm hand touch her shoulder, she couldn’t do it. She hated how easily she gave in, sagging towards whoever it was behind her and exhaling shakily as the person - her mother - wrapped their arms around Emma.

“You don’t have to do this.” Snow White’s voice was warm, comforting, and Emma wanted to turn around and let her mother hug her properly, but she knew that would be too much. “I want you to be happy. Before you left, this marriage didn’t make you this upset. Whatever’s changed, you can tell me. We can still find a way to stop everything.”

“I have to. Regina can’t kill that many people again.” Emma said, trying to convince her mother as much as herself. “If this is what needs to be done, I can do it.”

Snow released her daughter, turning her gently so that Emma met her eyes and then placed a hand soothingly on Emma’s cheek. “You haven’t talked to me much. Not since you got back. But you found it, didn’t you? True love. That’s why this is so hard for you.”

Emma gazed at her mother, and then everything felt as if it was rising up inside her, and she fell into her mother’s arms, letting Snow hold her in a way that she hadn’t in years. Snow murmured into her hair, a comforting stream of sound that Emma clung to.

“Do you want to tell me about him?” Snow asked. “How did you meet? What’s his name?”

“Really?” Emma frowned in confusion. Things had been difficult between her and her parents since she returned, bringing with her a son that neither of them remembered. It had been impossible to convince them of the truth, and their lack of belief in her had made it so she didn’t want to tell them about her travels. Without memories of Henry, they couldn’t understand why she had left so suddenly. “You _want_ to hear about him?”

“If you want to tell me, I’d love to know.”

“His name is Killian.” Emma smiled softly, picturing him in her mind, his dark hair mussed by wind and his blue eyes soft and intense, the way they always were when he was looking at her. “He helped me find Henry. He _loves_ me. But he didn’t think he was good enough, even though I thought he was incredible… a man of honour, even. So he went away, for a month, to try and be better. But he’s not back yet and now I have to do this, and I don’t know how I can have my happy ending if he’s not here.”

“He sounds wonderful.” Snow said quietly, fussing with Emma’s hair and arranging it so that it was still in the elaborate up-do she had fashioned for the wedding. Emma glanced up her mother, seeing a sly smile on her mother’s face. “Is he handsome?”

“The most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” Emma stated, surprised by the smile that crossed her own face when her mother laughed. “But I might be biased.”

“Maybe.” Snow agreed. “I personally think no man will ever be more handsome than your father.”

Emma’s smile widened slightly and she let her mother hold her tighter. “Mom?” she asked after minutes of silence. “I’d know, wouldn’t I, if something happened to him? If he was hurt or dead and couldn’t come back to me?”

“If it was serious, you would know. Your father felt it when I went under the sleeping curse, and I’m certain I’d know if anything happened to him. Anything that would be terrible enough to keep him away from me.” Emma bit her lip and glanced down. As much as the words comforted her, reassuring her that Killian was alright, she had to wonder why he wasn’t back yet. What could possibly keep him from returning to her side? “Perhaps you have to hope. Happy endings always start with hope, Emma.”

“I do have hope. I hope he’ll come back to me. But you’re right. If anything happened to him, I would know. I would feel it.” Emma insisted, her voice cracking as she spoke, betraying her nervousness that she’d never see him again. “And Graham knows the truth. I told him. We might be getting married, but he’ll always come third to Henry and the man I love. He knows that.”

Snow’s jaw clenched, the way that it always did when Emma brought up Henry, and Emma grimaced and pulled away from her mother. Snow had loved Henry before, had doted upon him, but she still looked at him without any love in her eyes and still doubted Emma, and it was this that was creating a distance between Emma and her mother.

“I know this wedding won’t make you happy.” Snow White stated, the uncomfortable silence too much. “And I do hope your Killian finds you, and you can be with him. But Graham truly is a good man. You may never love him, but I’m sure he will be a friend to you. I remember the past decade, Emma, how so many suitors turned you down, and I’m so happy that you won’t be alone anymore. I could only be happier if you were with the man you wanted.”

“I’ve always been happy with just you and dad.” Emma reassured. “I wasn’t ever unhappy with you. I never felt alone. I’m just _happier_ with Killian. The same way I’m happier with Henry.”

“I’m so proud of you.” Her mother took her hands, clasped them between hers, her lips trembling slightly. Emma may have wanted to make her mother feel better, but the more she reassured Snow about the past, the more Snow appeared to worry about the future. “You’re sacrificing a lot for the people of this kingdom, more than I thought you were. You’ll be an amazing Queen one day, Emma.”  Snow gently pulled one hand away from Emma, reaching into a pocket and holding out a gold ring, a small peridot embedded in the metal. “I know this marriage is not what you want, and it’s happened very quickly, but I want you to have something that _means_ something, even if it’s not traditional. You don’t have an engagement ring, but you could wear this, something your father and I chose for you. I hope that, when you look at it, you’ll know that your father and I will always be there for you and that, no matter what, you will always be loved.”

Emma almost rejected the gift, recalling her parents’ harsh words when she reintroduced Henry, how they refused to accept her story, but she shook that impulse away. Such a response would only have been pettiness, a cruel attempt to hurt her mother the way she was hurting, and she would regret it almost instantly. Instead, she let her mother slide the band onto her ring finger, glad that she wouldn’t only be wearing a symbol of her tie to Graham after they were married.

“Thank you.” she whispered, tilting her hand back and forth and watching the light dance on the gold. “Really.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” Snow stated, brushing a stray hair away from Emma’s forehead and then standing up. “Now, I have to sort everything out. For some reason, most of the diplomats and royals we invited haven’t shown up, so your wedding will be rather quiet.”

“More food for us then.” Emma stated miserably. “Go. I need some time alone to mentally prepare myself anyway.”

“If you’re sure.” Snow said hesitantly and then brightened, as if she had an idea. “I could always send Henry along. Wouldn’t you like to see him?”

It was the first sign that Snow might come to accept Henry, and Emma beamed at her.“I’d like that more than anything.”

~~~*~~~

After fifteen minutes with no sign of Henry, Emma resigned herself to spending the hour before her wedding alone, fidgeting with the new ring on her finger and wishing that she didn’t suddenly want a marriage as solid and loving as her parents.

Before this, before Graham, Emma hadn’t thought too much about marriage, but although she now had to be married to someone, she didn’t want it to be like this.

She needed to convince herself that marriage was a political thing, and maybe if her parents had been anyone else, that would have been easy. Most royals did marry in order to create ties between kingdoms, she knew that. Her father had almost entered a marriage like that, one that was meant to bring wealth to what was then King George’s kingdom, and he would often speak of his relief that he hadn’t married Abigail.

And how the one thing he had always wanted was to marry for love.

She wished she could afford that, but it seemed that wouldn’t be possible for her.

She had to believe that she was doing the right thing.

The one thing she was thankful for was the lack of guests. Although she didn’t understand why the invited dignitaries had not shown, she was glad her marriage wouldn’t be a big celebration. With only her family and Graham present, she could marry Graham - make the peace arrangement - with no need to put on a show for an audience.

She prepared herself to mope for the remaining time, but then she heard the creak of the door opening behind her, and before she could turn around she felt the familiar weight of her son barrelling into her, and she twisted round to pull him into a tight hug, one hand mussing up the hair that had likely been meticulously styled by palace servants as she ruffled it affectionately. “Don’t you look fancy, kid?” she teased, holding him away from her so she could take in the full effect of his brocade tunic and smart trousers. “It’s almost as if there’s some event on or something?”

“And you look wrong.” Henry replied, his eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t look happy. I hate it when you’re not happy.”

“Of course I’m not happy.” Emma pulled him back towards her, her arm around his shoulder. “Here I am, getting married, and my son’s not in the wedding party. All I want is to have you standing next to me, so everyone can see just how handsome you’re looking. You really do look adorable.”

“I don’t look _adorable_ , mom!” he protested, but it was halfhearted. “Really!”

“Well, I think you do. And I’m your mother, so I know best.” Emma teased, Henry’s presence making her feel better than she had in hours. Henry rolled his eyes, but still looked upset. “Now, Dad may have mentioned there’s going to be a feast after the wedding. And I gathered it’s very expensive. You know how grandpa gets when he thinks we’re buying too much. So, you can eat _whatever_ you want.”

“I don’t want that!” Henry said, getting up and stomping his foot. “I want you to _not_ get married. Not to Graham. You have to marry Killian! He _is_ coming back and it’s stupid that you’re not waiting! If you don’t want to wait, then we should go find him. Because that’s what this family does! Grandpa and Grandma found each other, you found me and now you have to find him.”

Emma sighed. If only things were as simple as Henry believed. “But if I go to find Killian, then people will die. The Evil Queen _will_ kill again and it will be my fault. This is the only chance we have to stop her, and I can’t throw it away because I’d rather be with Killian.”

“But Killian could stop the Evil Queen, couldn’t he?” Henry was pleading now, and all Emma wanted was to make him feel better. “You told me all the stories about him. He’s Captain Hook. Surely he can stop her.”

“I can’t risk it.” Emma muttered. Henry looked so disappointed with her response that she almost spoke again, gave him hope. But false hope was worse than no hope at all and she couldn’t do that to her son. “I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t.” She bit her lip, trying to stop it trembling. If she hadn’t doubted her choices enough, Henry’s insistence was making things far worse. His suggestion of going to find Killian was tempting, and she toyed with the idea of taking Henry and running away with him, the way she had when Henry had been taken, fleeing to the docks and hoping she would find a ship to take her where she needed to be.

Maybe fate would intervene again and it would be Killian’s ship waiting for her. The way it had been before.

Henry was an observant child, always had been, and she could tell from his bright eyes that he had seen her moment of uncertainty and he was leaping on it. “Mom, you ran away from everything for me. You didn’t care what the Evil Queen was doing or what would happen if you left. Why can’t you do the same for him?”

“You’re my son. It’s different. I would do anything for you.”

“Just don’t. You don’t have to pretend for me. If it’s true love, then you _should_ go after him. Grandpa and Grandma always tell us their stories and say how they were selfish. They would have done anything to be with one another and you should do the same. Because it’s your true love this time, so you should do whatever it takes to be with him. And I really want to go on his boat. At least once. Which means you have to find him.”

“We have to hope, Henry, that Killian will find me.” Emma whispered, feeling her son’s arms wrapping around her. When he was standing beside the chair, he was tall enough to bury his head in her neck as he clung to her. “I can’t run away this time. The kingdom needs someone to do something, and if I’ve got the chance to be that person, to be a hero like in all your stories, I have to take it. They need that.”

“I already thought you were a hero like in all my stories.” Henry said earnestly. “You saved me from my Grandpa, Rumplestiltskin, and that’s what a hero would do. But if you really do have to, I’m not going to stop believing Killian will come back. Because this isn’t a happy ending and you are going to get one.”

Emma smiled tremulously. How she had managed to raise a son like Henry was a question she couldn’t answer, but she was grateful that she had. “Henry, please don’t worry about me. That’s not your job. Just know that my happy ending doesn’t depend on which man I marry. As long as you’re with me, I have my happy ending. After months searching for you, I know that for certain.”

“You’re crying now. It isn’t a happy ending.” Henry insisted, and Emma sighed. This was clearly not an issue that she could persuade Henry to ignore, the way she was determined to, and as much as she took comfort in her son’s presence, his words made everything harder with each syllable.

“Henry? Let’s not talk about this. _Please_.” She was begging, and Henry look utterly taken aback, gazing at his mother in surprise. “Just sit with me and talk to me about _anything_.”

Henry stared at her, mouth screwed up in annoyance, but then he nodded. “Fine. When we last went into town, I asked Pinocchio to make me a new toy ship.” he began, and Emma should have guessed his toy ships would be his choice of discussion. “I have all the naval ships, but Grandpa doesn’t play with me anymore so I can’t wage wars against him. I wanted a pirate ship, because Grandpa wouldn’t play with one of them anyway so it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember me and keeps calling me Harry.”

His words cut through her and she crumbled, her shoulders sagging and breath trembling when she realised how selfish she was being. She wasn’t the only one struggling at the moment. Her own son had returned to a home where he was unknown and unwelcome, his grandparents not recognising him as family. Her boy had once been a prince, taught naval strategies and sword fighting by her father and their advisors, but now he was left alone. Her father didn’t even play battleships with him anymore, and she was sure that was hurting Henry the most.

Emma opened her mouth, ready to say something but not sure what that something would be, other than that it would be some sort of apology. “Mom. It’s okay. I know you’ve been busy because of all the stuff you left behind so that you could come and get me. And I do miss Grandpa, but Papa’s been here a few times and he’s seen all my ships and he said that next time he’ll bring me a new one and we can have a big sea battle. And when he’s not here, it’s fine because I always win the wars when there’s no one playing against me.”

“It’s not okay, Henry.” she stated, finally releasing Henry from their hug. He stepped back, Emma taking his hands in hers as she spoke. “But you’ve been so amazing and I’m so proud of you. You’re my brave little prince, even if the kingdom can’t remember that.”

Henry squirmed, grimacing and Emma laughed slightly. Apparently calling him a brave little prince was going too far, but before he could complain, she saw his stare focus on the door behind her, and then she heard the creak of it opening.

“Henry?” It was Graham speaking, and Emma couldn’t think of a reason why he would be here instead of outside, waiting to marry her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.” Henry pointed out, Emma turning so she could see the huntsman.

He was dressed in his usual hunting gear, not the formal tunic she had been expected, his knuckles white as he held tightly to the doorframe. “I need to speak to you. It’s important. I don’t know how much I can tell you.”

“What are you talking about? Graham?” Emma stood so that she could cross the room, but Graham held a hand out to stop her.

“I don’t want this. I don’t want to marry you and I know you don’t want it either.” Emma frowned, each word he said sounding strained. “You told me you love another man. I don’t want you to be married to me when it’s all a lie. But I’m not talking about us. This marriage is disguised as a peace agreement but I know the truth.”

“The truth?” Emma repeated, the man’s stress worrying her, clinging tightly to her son’s shoulder. “What is the truth?”

“Regina doesn’t want peace. She wants you dead. She wants me to kill you and your father at the wedding. She wants me to break your mother before she can ruin her. And I can’t say no. I have to do it.” Emma shook her head, horrified by what Graham was saying. “I can only warn you now because Regina’s busy, she hasn’t thought through all the loopholes, hasn’t stopped me from telling you. This is something she’s spent months planning. Why do you think none of the dignitaries showed up? Regina didn’t want them here to watch her rip out Snow White’s heart and take her happy ending.”

“No, Graham, it doesn’t make sense!” Emma protested, but her voice was shaking with uncertainty. Carefully, she pushed Henry to stand behind her, protecting him. “Why go to such effort? What did she even do to keep people away? Why insist that I marry you?”

“We were never going to be married, Emma.” Graham forced out, his teeth clenched. “But you don’t have time for questions. You need to take your father and run. As for your mother, it’s probably too late.”

“Too late?” Graham shook his head, and it was then that Emma noticed his arms were shaking, the way he seemed to be trying to hold himself back from doing something. Emma didn’t know what he was going to do, but a shiver of fear ran through her veins, not for herself but for her family. “Henry, run. Get Grandpa.”

At her words, Graham’s eyes closed and when he opened them, they were empty of emotion, as if he wasn’t himself anymore. He released the door frame and took a slow, threatening step towards her. “I’m sorry.” he said, pulling a dagger from his belt and lunging.

Despite all his warnings, his attack was sudden and Emma could only push Henry out of the way before Graham collided with her, knocking her to the ground, his dagger catching the side of her arm. His hand gripped her wrist tightly, holding her prone beneath him, the blade dancing dangerously by her throat, and with every struggle she made, Graham muttered an apology.

Emma tried to throw him off, kicking out and struggling, but Graham was strong, and she couldn’t get free.

And then there was a loud thump and Graham fell onto her, unconscious.

Emma blinked, eyes widening when she saw her son standing above her, a heavy candlestick balanced in his hands. “Mom?”

“Good thinking, kid.” she said with a grunt, pushing Graham’s weight off herself and clumsily standing up. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Are you?” Emma nodded, pulling him close to press a thankful kiss to his forehead.

“Henry, go find Grandpa. I’m going to find mom before the Evil Queen can do what she plans.” Emma insisted, pulling Henry towards the door and then pushing him down the hallway, running in the other direction, towards the ballroom where she was meant to be getting married.

She hesitated by the door, terrified in a way that she hadn’t been since seeing Zelena rip Killian’s heart out, and she wasn’t sure she could bear it if she burst into the room to see her mother injured or worse.

But surely it was better to go in there and see instead of waiting outside and not knowing.

She took one deep breath and then pushed the doors open, eyes widening when she saw the Evil Queen standing in the centre of the ballroom, Snow White frozen before her in a hazy glow of magic.

The instant Regina caught sight of her, she took in a deep breath, looking utterly furious. “It appears my huntsman is less useful than I had hoped.” she hissed, a cruel smile spreading across her face as she looked from Emma to her mother. “But actually, I think this makes everything even better.” Emma took a step closer, but then Regina thrust her hand into Snow White’s chest, laughed and then pulled the heart out. She held the heart out to Emma, as if displaying it, a look of disgust on her face. “Look at this, _Princess_ , it’s so pure. I can’t wait to corrupt it.”

Everything was too familiar, Emma had seen too many hearts held in too many people’s hands, and she was desperate not to see another heart being crushed in front of her, especially not when this time it belonged to someone she cared about. She refused to take another step forward, not when her mother’s heart was prone in Regina’s hand.

“Regina, why are you doing this?” Snow’s voice was strong, unafraid. “I had hoped you had changed. I had hoped your offer for peace was true. I suppose I need to learn that for some people, change just isn’t possible.”

A slow smirk spread across Regina’s face. “The last time I was in this ballroom, _Snow White_ , I promised you that I would destroy your happiness. And I was patient. When my first plan fell through, I spent years figuring out how I could best destroy you, and I had it perfectly planned out. I had to delay it a while when your daughter ran off, but I don’t mind.”

“What was your plan? To wait until my daughters wedding day, one that you forced her to be part of, and kill me in front of them?”

“Not at all.” Regina replied with a shake of her head. “I’m not going to kill you. Not yet. First, I want you to _have_ to watch your own hands destroy everything, to ruin anything you touch until your own kingdom is begging for me to take your place. Only then will I kill you. And I’m going to start with your own family. I had planned for Graham to take your family away from you, but I think it will be better if I make you do it. Starting with your own daughter, and then your oh so precious Prince Charming.”

“Villains never win, Regina.” Snow said, flinching when Regina squeezed her heart in what appeared to be an impulsive twitch. Emma took a step closer, stopping when Regina shot her a pointed, threatening glare. “You may succeed in hurting me, but you will _never_ be happy. Not like this. And someone will beat you, even if it’s not me.”

“They won’t. I’m going to make you kill the only people who would have known what I’ve done, and then no one will stop me because no one will know. This time, they’ll be trying to stop _you_.” Regina laughed again, then lifted the heart to her lips. “Now, Snow White, kill your daughter.”

“Emma, run.” Snow White said, stepping towards her daughter, a sword materialising in her hand courtesy of Regina. “I don’t want to hurt you. Get your father, get Henry and get out of here. _Please_.”

Emma looked one more time between the Evil Queen and Snow White, wishing she could do something but uncertain what option she had other than to do what her mother had asked. She waited for one more minute, until Snow had swung her sword perilously close to Emma’s head, and then she spun on her heel and darted down the hall, stumbling over the hem of her wedding dress.

She didn’t stop running until she collided with her father, the two of them crashing to the floor. The king struggled to stand up, and Emma had to cling to him, determined to stop him from running to Snow White only to have her take his life away. “Dad!” she yelled, the raw panic in her voice causing him to stare at her in shock. “Daddy! Please. It’s too late. We can’t do anything now. She’ll make mom kill you.”

“She would never hurt me.” David insisted, but Emma shook her head, pulling him the other way down the corridor, Henry taking his other arm and trying to help. “She couldn’t.”

“She’s not _her_ anymore. If we do anything to mess up Regina’s plan, she’ll crush Mom’s heart.” Emma begged. “We have to leave now and find a way to save her later, when Regina isn’t literally holding Mom’s life in her hands. _Please_. I can’t lose you too.”

It was only the last sentence that stopped her father’s struggling, and he turned to look at her, the despair in his eyes greater than any Emma had ever seen before, a few tears escaping him. “I’m not giving up, Emma. I can’t give up on her.”

“And we’re not.” Emma stated, holding onto her son with one hand and her father with the other, leading the two of them to the nearest exit of the palace. “But we have to know that right now, we can’t save her. We need to save ourselves, so that we’re alive and we can get her heart back. Before it’s too late.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy this and have a fantastic Christmas! Thanks to HawkEye733 for betaing!
> 
> And just a warning I haven't mentioned before, there are upcoming MINOR character deaths in this story. I'm VERY sorry, but it's necessary. I promise, though, all the major characters will be okay (maybe a bit shaken though)

#  **Chapter 2**

The three of them were almost out of the palace when they heard the rumbling of guards behind them, yells of confusion echoing along the hallways. Emma could only make out a few words that the guards were saying, gathering that they were being chased on the orders of Snow White. Her father clearly heard the noise too, his brows furrowing and his hand resting anxiously on the hilt of his sword.

A few soldiers ran into the corridor in front of them, their gazes locking on Emma and her family, but despite their swords being raised, they hesitated. Emma knew them, could name every single one of them, and she knew it was likely her father had spoken to them before.

“Alistair?” David asked, the named guard’s gaze darting towards her father. “You know your orders are ridiculous, don’t you? That if things were normal, your Queen would never order you to stop us.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but they are our orders.” Alistair said solemnly, his fingers flexing on his sword. “So run. Before someone who is more determined to follow the Queen’s nonsensical demands finds you.”

“She’s not herself.” David says sternly, prickling at how the soldier had spoken about his wife. “Make sure the soldiers know that. But be careful. I don’t know what she’s capable of right now, and I’d hate for any of you to lose your lives because of us.”

Alistair nodded and then Emma looped her hand through her father’s arm, trying to pull him away from the guards before any others arrived. “Give us five minutes.” Emma commanded. “Then chase us. I don’t want you to be in trouble for letting us go, so it needs to look like you tried and we simply managed to get away.”

The man nodded in agreement, stepping aside so that Emma could lead her family through the halls. Henry took the lead, running faster than Emma and her father and taking the corners at such speed that he stumbled and fell. David bent to help him up, and Emma winced when she saw the rip at his knees and the blood swelling from the scrape in his knee.

If that was the worst injury they were going to get during their escape, then they would be very lucky.

Instead of using the main gate, they passed through the servant’s quarters in order to exit from the smaller side door, one that was far less likely to be surrounded by guards, and then Emma led the other two along the small path that meandered from the palace to the outskirts of the town. They remained hidden by the shadows of the palace as they crept along the wall.

“Hey! Your Highness?” At the sound of her title, Emma drew the others to a halt and glanced round, a relieved smile spreading across her face when she saw an open door with a familiar face standing just inside. “I’ve heard the commotion. Get in here.”

She didn’t hesitate, chivvying her son through the door first and then following him into the woodshop. “Pinocchio, this is dangerous.”

“Having you in my home is dangerous now?” Pinocchio asked, turning to pick up something from the nearby workbench. “What’s going on?”

“I’d like to know that too.” David agreed, Pinocchio spinning round when he heard the King’s voice. The instant he saw the king standing in his home, closing the door behind him, he bowed.

“King James.” he acknowledged, appearing to ignore David’s wide-eyed, desperate expression and frantic pacing. “It’s an honour to have you in my home.”

“It’s the Evil Queen.” Emma explained. “Apparently she’s tired of the endless battles at the border. I don’t exactly know what she’s planning, but she took mom’s heart. She wants us dead, Dad, and she wants Mom to do it. Probably so there’s no one left with any claim to the throne.”

David grimaced, distraught, running a hand through his hair. “And what then? Make a play for the throne? Do you know if she’ll keep Snow alive until we’re dead, or if she’ll kill her no matter what? Because if Snow is who she wants to kill us, we just have to stay away until we can save her. If not, then we need to move urgently and take her heart back.”

“I don’t know.” Emma’s voice was shaking, and she felt the weight of her father’s hand settle on her shoulder. Whether it was for her comfort, or for his, she wasn’t sure, but she leant into it. “She wants Mom to do more than kill us. From what I gathered from Graham, before he had to do her bidding, is that she doesn’t just want the throne. She wants people to want her to rule them, and I think she plans to get that by making Mom do terrible things. Even if she’ll stay alive until we’ve been taken care of, we don’t want to wait too long, not if Mom’s going to be forced to hurt others.”

“We’ve been forced out of the palace, Emma. We have nothing we can use to fight back, other than my sword.” For a brief moment, her father looked resigned, hand hovering on the hilt of his weapon, “Finding a way to get to the Queen, and my love’s heart, is going to be far more difficult than I would have hoped. If we have any hope of succeeding, we can’t just run off now and hope for the best. You were right when you stopped me in the palace. As much as I hate it, we need time to think and plan things through, figure out what we have that we can use against Regina. And we need to do it somewhere the guards can’t find us and deliver us back to the palace. My old farmhouse, perhaps?”

Pinocchio remained silent, his expression aggravated as the two royals spoke. Despite letting them hide in his house, he didn’t have much else to add to the conversation, and Emma didn’t want him to know too much. Despite being a good friend, he was a terrible liar, and she didn’t want him to know too much. “Not the farmhouse.” Emma declined, mind racing as she tried to think of something, anything, they could do. “Somewhere else.”

“I may have a suggestion.” Pinocchio said carefully, Emma and her father’s gazes darting over to stare at the carpenter. “My father owned a warehouse by the docks, one I haven’t used since his passing, but I still own. You could hide out there.”

Her father didn’t look convinced, but Emma thought it sounded perfect. Although it hadn’t crossed her mind before, hiding by the docks would be helpful should Killian ever return. She was certain Killian would offer help once he knew of their dilemma, and Emma would like to be able to watch out for the Jolly Roger, at least while they planned their rescue mission. “That sounds like a plan. I’d like to keep an eye on the ships anyway, at least for a few days.”

“The ships?” David asked, sounding confused. “Why do you want to watch the ships?”

“I know a man who can help us. Who _will_ help us.” Emma explained. “If we look out for him, and hopefully he’ll get here sometime soon, we’ll know the moment his ship comes to dock.”

“I don’t want to put all our hopes on a man who may never even show up.” David insisted, fixing Emma with a curious stare. “How do you know this man? You’ve never mentioned meeting a man before. You used to avoid all the men that visited the palace and now you know someone. Is he a sailor?”

It appeared that the insinuation that Emma knew a man well enough to ask for his help was enough to distract her father from anything, even something as dire as her mother’s stolen heart. Her mouth quirked slightly, his questions amusing her and reminding her of the times she had teased Killian, fondly called him a sailor as they walked hand in hand.  “I suppose you could call him a sailor.”

“I don’t know, Emma.” Her father looked unsure, clearly not wanting to trust in a man he had never even heard of. “I don’t want to wait for this man when we have no guarantee that he will even arrive.”

“He will.” Henry piped up, having spent the time wandering around the small hut and playing with the variety of carved toys Pinocchio had laid across the workbenches.

“Do you know this man, Henry?” David asked, his attention fully on the young boy. “You’re certain he’ll help us?”

“He’ll come here. He’ll come for Mom.”

“Either way,” Emma stated, not wanting her father to find out the extent of her relationship with Killian through Henry’s excited chatter. “We need to spend some time waiting, because we need to figure out what to do. Whether or not Killian arrives, it doesn’t matter.”

Not for the plan, anyway.

David didn’t seem impressed by the way she attempted to change the subject, but nodded in acquiescence. He turned a grateful smile towards the carpenter and held out a hand, Pinocchio taking it and shaking it with a smug grin. “Thank you, Pinocchio. When everything is sorted out, ask for _anything_ and we will do everything in our power to to repay you for your help.”

Before Pinocchio could hand them the key, an angry knock rattled the wooden door, palace guards angrily demanding to be let in. The four of them shared terrified looks and then Pinocchio hustled Emma and her father behind a nearby wooden screen, Henry remaining by the workbench. Her son reached for her but Emma shook her head. Being forgotten by the realm had made it so the guards wouldn’t be concerned with him, and in case Emma and her father were caught, she didn’t want Henry associated with them. He would be safer that way.

There was a thin gap in the screen, and through it Emma could make out the movements of the guards when Pinocchio let them into the house, Henry once again playing with the small wooden toys on the bench and refusing to pay any attention to the men.

“Have you seen King David and Princess Emma?” One guard asked, a man that Emma didn’t recognise. “They’re missing from the palace and we fear they will be in danger unless we find them.”

Pinocchio shrugged apologetically, but Emma knew him well enough to see the stiffness with which he was holding himself as he carefully chose his words. “I’m sorry. I saw Her Highness before the last wedding, before she ran away.”

The man gazed at him suspiciously, but luckily for them, Pinocchio’s reputation as an honest man seemed to be widely-known, and the soldiers nodded and decided not to check the room. “And who is that?”

Pinocchio’s posture relaxed, this question apparently something he felt he could answer. “A local boy. He’s here to pick up something his mother bought for him.” He replied, reaching over to a small pile of miniature toys and selecting an intricately carved ship, handing it over to Henry. “He just happened to be here at this inopportune time.”

Henry’s face lit up when he saw the ship, and Emma felt a fond smile cross her face at the childish glee he showed with a new toy in his hands. His honest happiness was the last thing the guards needed to see, and with an irritated mumble, they left the house

“Thank you.” Emma breathed, leaving the hiding place once she was sure the guards had left. “I know lying’s difficult for you, and you stopped them from finding us.”

“I promised to be brave, selfless and true, Emma.” Pinocchio stated, rummaging through a drawer before handing her a small, metal key. “I think protecting one of my oldest friends probably fits in with that, even if I wasn’t completely honest with the guards.”

Emma smiled, wrapping her arms around him in a brief hug and then pulling back, hand resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for a few months ago too. When you lent me your clothes and let me leave, even though I was obviously up to something.”

“I don’t know how quiet I would have been if I knew you were going to go missing for months and meet a mysterious sailor.” Pinocchio told her, ushering her towards the door. “Now get going. The warehouse is one of the smaller ones just to the right of the dock.”

“Pinocchio?” Emma said, the instant her father and son were through the door. “When we get back and when everything is okay, you’ll be the first person I visit. Maybe you could make another ship for Henry, as I think he needs something to make up for everything he’s been through? I promise you’ll be paid very, very generously.”

“I’ll make it for free. And I’ll have it ready for your return.” Pinocchio promised, now pushing her out of the doorway. “It will be amazing. A corvette, maybe, or a frigate. Just get to the warehouse, Your Highness, and make sure you’re safe.”

~~~*~~~

The warehouse was small, with only two rooms. The ground floor was an open space, sawdust and dusty carvings hidden between wooden crates, and so Emma and her family had decided to hide in the small second-floor office. The room even had a latch on the door and a tiny barred window looking out over the docks.

The three of them had reached the docks a couple of hours after sunset, and had tried to make themselves comfortable in the small room. David sat by the wall, wrapped in his cloak, his eyes glassy and fixed on a spot on the wall.

Emma doubted her father would be getting any sleep, and she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t think she would be resting either, the events of that day stuck in her mind. She kept seeing the moment Regina had pulled Snow’s heart from her chest and uttered commands that her mother had no choice but to follow, and the moment Graham had lunged at her with a mindless, empty look in his eyes.

Desperate to distract herself, she fussed over her son, trying to wrap her cloak around him as a blanket and failing when he clung to her, arms locking around her waist. She rested against the wall, Henry cuddling into her, using her as a cushion.

He closed his eyes, Emma running a hand through his hair as she attempted to soothe him to sleep, well aware of the way her father was occasionally glancing at the two of them.

“Mom?” Henry’s voice was quiet, but in the silence of the room, Emma knew her father could hear every word Henry said. “Grandma will be alright, won’t she? We’ll save her. The way you saved me.”

Her father exhaled shakily, Emma looking briefly at him before answering her son’s question. “We’re going to do our best, and we’re not going to give up, because that’s what this family does.”

“Right.” Henry muttered through a yawn. “Like when the Evil Queen cast the sleeping curse on Grandma. Grandpa saved her. And he’ll save her again.”

“Exactly.” It was her father who had spoken, his tone hard and determined, but his expression had softened as he gazed at Emma and her son. “Don’t worry, kid. Snow and I have been of one heart since she awoke from the sleeping kiss. And people who are of one heart will never let anything happen to the one they love. Not if they can stop it.”

Her father’s words comforted her son, a grin spreading across his face. “And Killian will help, won’t he, Mum?” Henry mumbled. “I can’t wait for him to get here.”

Emma didn’t respond, watching Henry slip into slumber. She didn’t understand why, but Henry’s confidence in Killian was stirring anxiety in her. As distraught as Emma would be if Killian never returned to her, everything would be far worse knowing that Henry too would be disappointed.

Perhaps he really wasn’t returning. He may have promised he would come back to her, but Emma had been abandoned before, and just because someone said they loved you didn’t mean they wouldn’t leave you.

Except Killian knew all of that, and he had been abandoned too, and he wouldn’t do it to her.

No matter what was keeping him from her, she couldn’t wait for much longer. If Killian didn’t arrive soon, she would need to find a way to reach her mother’s heart.  

“Come on, Killian.” She whispered, eyes closed as she rested her head against the wall. “Come back to me.”

“He’ll come back.” She opened her eyes and peered at her father when he spoke, noticing for the first time how his voice was quiet and hoarse, his face lined as though he had aged years in the past day. “Remember what your mother says. If you love someone and they love you, they will always find you. And this sailor, Killian, or whatever his name is, it sounds like he loves you. If that’s true, then he will find you.”

“You think so?”

“Things might seem hopeless right now, Emma, but it doesn’t mean we should stop hoping.” David said, a weak smile spreading across his face. “Although, you might want to worry about the conversation I need to have with you about the fact that you love someone and I had never heard his name until today.”

Emma chuckled, sharing an amused smile with her father and glad he was still trying to maintain their spirits despite everything. “Well, you’ve never cared about suitors, not like Mom did. You always seemed happiest when I told you I _wasn’t_ interested in anyone. I didn’t know how you’d react to knowing I’d actually found someone.”

“I’m saving my judgement on him until I meet him.” David muttered. “And if you’re certain he’ll help us, I can’t see how I can dislike him. At least not much.”

“I don’t know.” Emma couldn’t even imagine how her father would react upon seeing Killian for the first time, with a hook for a hand and wearing a heavy leather coat. He didn’t exactly look like the prince her parents had wanted her to be with, although she was certain he would more than look the part if he chose to. “He might not be what you’re expecting.”

“As long as he’s not an ogre, darling, I can deal with it.”

~~~*~~~

_The red smoke cleared to reveal the familiar turrets of her home, a few guards with swords pointed towards her and her son. The instant all the smoke dissipated, shouts rose from the men, calls for her parents, and before Emma could react, or even think, her parents were running out the castle, arms open wide before they wrapped her in a hug, Emma sagging towards them when she felt her father’s hand resting on the back of her head._

_“Emma?” Her mother whispered, her voice thick with tears. “Is it really you? Where have you been? We’ve been so worried”_

_“We missed you.” Her father added. “So much.”_

_Emma couldn’t speak, overwhelmed by the reunion, smiling when she felt Henry join the embrace, one hand clinging to Emma’s, his other arm wrapping around his grandpa. But David pulled away, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he glanced down at the young boy._

_And Emma realised that Henry was still forgotten. Still unknown._

_She drew back, exhaling shakily and not knowing what to do. Emma glanced down at Henry, who was staring up at her and waiting for an explanation. And then she couldn’t do it anymore, too many thoughts and worries running through her mind - her parents didn’t remember Henry, Killian was by himself at the Dark One’s palace, she was the **only** person who knew her son’s life, Rumplestiltskin was still likely to kill Killian given the chance, and he had that chance now, except maybe Baelfire would stop him, Henry didn’t understand what was happening and why his grandparents were looking at him with no love in their eyes, only confusion -  and she didn’t know what to feel._

_Anger, perhaps, at what Rumplestiltskin had stolen from her son? Or at Killian for staying behind?_

_Except she was angrier at herself for that. She had known Killian was struggling with what he had done to Zelena, but she had been oblivious to the fact that he didn’t think he was good enough for her. She had been so happy with Killian - ridiculously so given everything else - that she hadn’t ever considered that things hadn’t been as perfect for him._

_She felt her father brush a tear away from her cheek, unaware that she had even been crying. “Who is this, then?”_

_Emma bit her lip at the King’s question, looking down at her son and seeing the realisation in his eyes. “This is Henry.” she answered, her voice shaking as she nudged Henry to stand before her, making sure her parents were looking at him. “He’s the reason I left. He’s my son.”_

_“No.” David stated, shaking his head at Emma’s words. “You haven’t been missing long enough to have a son, never mind one that’s his age.”_

_“I didn’t,” Emma stammered, grimacing. “I didn’t leave to… to **have** him.”_

_Snow was chuckling at her husband’s protest, her hand darting out to hit his shoulder, warning him to stop talking._

_And Emma doesn’t know what to say, her parents waiting on another explanation, Henry’s dismay evident as he clung to her._

_She just thought that maybe this time, this was something she couldn’t fix._

~~~*~~~

The three days that had passed since their flight from the palace had been the longest three days that Emma had ever experienced. She had needed to remain hidden in the warehouse, alongside her father, so Henry had taken it upon himself to buy food from the markets and keep an ear out for local news.

Emma hated him being out there, alone, but he was the only one safe from any soldiers looking for them.

She tried to watch him, peering through the window to see the docks, see her son weaving through the crowd, but he’d always become swallowed up among the milling people in the streets so she quickly lost sight of him. While watching him, she would view the ships coming and going, and although she didn’t understand it, she felt more and more certain with each passing day that soon Killian and Emma would be back together, and the Jolly Roger would be mooring, and she would see its bright colours from her window.

Months ago, it would have been strange for her to be thinking such things. Baelfire had left her closed off to everyone, but with Killian, it had been surprisingly easy for her to open up to him, to let him in and let him know her. It had taken a while, too long, for her to realise what she was feeling, and without realising it, she had just fallen and made declarations to him that she never imagined she would make.

Emma still remembered taking his face in his hands and telling him she wanted _everything_ , and she wanted it with him. And he had looked back at her with such hope in his eyes, as if that was everything he wanted and more, and it had been the first time she had allowed herself to believe that a happy ending with him was even a possibility.

She had known, then, that what she had with him was probably true love. With parents like hers, she knew true love existed,that it was the strongest magic in all realms, and she was certain she felt it with him.

And that was another thought she had never believed she would have. Perhaps her father’s optimism was rubbing off on her.

David was certain that they would be able to make the way to the Queen’s castle by sailing to the north and sneaking inside, but despite his knowledge of the realm, Emma doubted it would be easy to get inside.

One of wooden crates from the floor below had been moved into the office, and with Henry’s help, David had tried to map out the realm. Henry had used varying fruits to represent different ports and palaces, a single apple marking their destination and Henry’s new wooden ship their mode of transport.

Henry was well-aware that their mission was serious, but playing with his ship and his grandfather seemed to be cheering him up. Sometimes, when even David felt like he needed to take a break from the planning, the two of them would play war, the way they used to, Henry with his ship, and David with one of the fruits.

Emma loved that they were growing close again, certain that their mending relationship would help Henry feel better. David still called him Harry sometimes, but only as a joke, laughing when Henry shook his head and pouted but then letting him win their next game.

But, of course, she still wished things were simpler. Without stolen hearts.

Emma was drawn away from her thoughts, glancing away from the small window, when she heard her father speak, breaking the quiet that tended to saturate the room whenever Henry was out.

“Henry calls his ship the Jolly Roger.” David stated absently, Emma frowning at him. “He said it was the name of your Killian’s ship.”

Emma nodded, unsure what her father was talking about. “It is. Not that Henry’s ever seen it, but I’ve told him stories.”

“It doesn’t sound like the most reputable ship. You said he was a sailor, right, Emma?”

“Uh, I did. He was a lieutenant.” Emma answered carefully. It wasn’t a lie. But her father thinking Killian was still a lieutenant seemed preferable to him knowing the truth, at least until he had the opportunity to meet him and see what he was really like.

If David knew that Killian was a pirate, he would never give him a chance, not the way that he needed to.

“He’s in the navy?”

She didn’t want to outright lie, so she shrugged, deciding to distract her father with suggestions on what they could sell in order to gain enough gold to purchase passage on a ship. Emma refused to sell either her cloak or her ring, despite being certain that they would be the most valuable things she had on her person, as they had much greater sentimental value than any price that would be offered. Instead, she suggested her old necklace - the one Baelfire had stolen for her many years before - something she had long since been wearing out of habit.

She didn’t need to be reminded to be cautious with her heart anymore.

With the necklace lying on the table, Emma expected them to sink into the silence she had grown used to, but instead her father seemed to have many questions, this time about the magic that Regina had used to gain control of Snow White.

Emma tried to answer as best she could, but everything she said seemed to give him more questions. She felt like she had talked for hours, the sparse light that filtered through the window reddening as the hours passed.

When the room was almost too dim to go without an oil lamp, and Henry still wasn’t back, Emma began to worry, anxious that perhaps she had been too complacent about Henry’s safety, and she started to get ready to sneak out into the shadows and search for him.

But then the door slammed open and Henry was there, squirming when she wrapped him in a hug. “You can’t do this, Henry!” she scolded, holding him tighter as he tried to pull away. “Not now. People are after me and Grandpa, and if you’re late, all I can think about is that they’ve found you.”

“I know!” Henry insisted, and Emma noticed the excitement in his voice and she stepped back to look at him, observing the way his eyes were wide and he was grinning. “But there’s a pirate ship in the dock! A real pirate ship!”

“A pirate ship?”

When her father repeated the phrase, it finally sunk in, and Emma knew, rushing to the small window and peering out. The sunset was too low to shine light on the ship, and she was only able to see the silhouette, which didn’t tell her anything.

But she could see someone at the helm, wearing what looked like the heavy leather coat that couldn’t be mistaken.

And it really was him. She was sure of it.

She didn’t even think of staying hidden, murmuring briefly that Killian had arrived before darting out the warehouse, to him, hearing her father’s confused shouts about the pirate ship and her son’s elated yells but not bothering to listen.

He was back.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! It's a bit quicker than usual, but it is the holidays! Enjoy the chapter! Thank you to HawkEye733 for betaing!

#  ** Chapter 3 **

Emma had rushed the short distance to the docks, but when she actually reached the bay that housed the Jolly Roger, Killian standing only a few metres in front of her, his figure slouched as he issued orders to his crew, she couldn’t cross the last few metres to it.

It was definitely him, and it was only now that she could see him, make out his profile, that she imagined what it would have been like if she was wrong.

She felt excitement swell inside her, but stayed still, choosing to simply watch him for a while, to spend some time just looking at him. She’d never had the chance to do that before, and maybe it wasn’t the best course of action at that exact moment, but she needed to. But something was different. For a few moments she couldn’t figure out what it was - his hair was slightly longer, but his coat was the same, he still had a hook, his hand was still decorated with rings. And then she knew what it was, what had changed.

He wasn’t holding himself the way he used to, his shoulders were hunched over so his entire figure seemed smaller, his head bowed slightly, his gestures to the crew small and far less exaggerated than they had been before. She couldn’t see his face, but he seemed despondent, and Emma desperately needed to know why, taking a tiny step towards him.

The instant she moved, Killian turned to direct one of his crew - Mullins, she thought, but she’d never been familiar with most of them - and his gaze glanced over her. Emma wasn’t sure what to expect, but the way his scowl deepened and he shook his head as if attempting to clear his mind before looking away wasn’t at all how she thought he would react.

Emma hesitated, unsure what to do now that he had seen her and ignored her, and then Henry was by her side and running towards the pirates. Emma flinched backwards when she watched him barrel into Killian, Killian grabbing him in order to steady him, and the moment Killian saw who had run into him, his eyes widened and he slowly raised his head, this time staring directly at her, his jaw dropping slightly.

She smiled shyly, and then Killian was gently nudging Henry aside and walking towards her, each of his steps quicker than the last, and Emma was moving too, and then they met halfway, Killian’s arms wrapping around her - under her cloak, like always - and he was holding her tightly to him, lifting her inches from the ground. Emma returned the embrace with the same fervour, burying one hand in his hair, cradling his head. He buried his head in her neck, his breath warm against her as he said something she couldn’t make out.

Not at first, anyway. But when she clung tighter and listened, she could hear the words. “You’re here.” he was murmuring. “You’re real.”

“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Why wouldn’t I be real?”

“I thought you were dead.” he answered, lowering her so her feet were firmly on the ground, and _that_ was something she needed to ask him about, but he was looking at her with such awe and love  that the question could wait. “But you’re here.”

Killian leaned towards her, Emma’s eyelids falling closed, but before he could kiss her, she heard the far-off yells of her father and she was suddenly too aware that David was coming towards them and would see everything, so she turned her head to the side, Killian’s lips meeting her cheek. “My father’s right there.” she murmured in explanation, gesturing vaguely behind them.

She couldn’t look away from him, not even when she heard her father arrive beside her. “Who is this, Emma?” David asked, and Emma could hear the uncertainty and surprise in his voice. “Is this Killian?”

“Of course it’s Killian.” She answered, feeling his clutch on her waist tighten so it was almost painful, but she didn’t mind because it was a reminder that he was there and he was _holding_ her. And he was still staring at her, he hadn’t looked away since her father arrived.

That was probably irritating David a bit, but Emma didn’t care right now. “And he’s going to help us?”

Killian tilted his head, eyebrow raised in confusion. “He’s going to help us.” Emma answered, and Killian nodded in agreement, despite the fact that he could have no idea what she was talking about.

“You’re really going to trust a pirate to assist us?”

Emma watched Killian’s jaw clench, letting go of his head to place her hand gently on his cheek, her thumb stroking his face. “I trust _this_ pirate.”

Killian shook his head, eyes shining with disbelief, and maybe he doubted she still felt the same after their time apart, because he was trembling slightly, and she needed him to know that wasn’t true, needed to know he was okay, but first she needed to kiss him. She didn’t even care anymore that her father was watching, simply pulling Killian down to her and sliding her lips over his, biting down gently on his bottom lip, and gasping when he surged into action, tugging her close and devouring her, Emma’s hand sliding from his face to rest on his chest, Killian’s hand tangling in her hair.

She could hear, only distantly, her father’s protests and Henry’s exaggerated sounds of disgust, catching the words ‘where’s his hand’ and even though she knew they were making a scene, two people kissing furiously on the docks with a man shouting at them, that drawing such attention was the last thing she should be doing, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

And she didn’t until she felt her father’s hand on her shoulder, tugging her back and pulling her away from Killian. “Sorry to cut your reunion short,” David bit out, frowning angrily at Killian. “But if you really are going to help us, then it would be a good plan to get out of sight. We’re not safe out here.”

“Of course.” Killian said slowly, sending Emma a questioning look. “The Captain’s cabin would be suitable, I imagine.”

“And would your captain mind?” David asked, his gaze locked on the crimson flag of the ship. “Or would he require some gold or another manner of payment.”

“ _I_ am the Captain.” Killian informed him, his hand on the base of Emma’s back as he led her and her family towards the gangplank. “And I can assure you that I don’t need any payment.”

“Just my daughter.” David mumbled audibly, causing Emma to sigh and roll her eyes, before crossing the gangplank onto the ship.

A sense of fondness came over her when she took her first step onto the deck. She had missed the Jolly Roger, the ship having been a home to her for months, and it was relief to be back on board. Her father and son were soon beside her, and she had to glance down at her son, a wide grin spreading across her face when she saw the excitement on Henry’s, the boy fidgeting slightly with his desperation to explore.

“I’ll show you around later.” she told him, his smile widening. “When we’re at sea. And maybe Killian will teach you how to sail.”

“He will.” Henry insisted, voice thick with joy. “He promised me he would the last time I saw him. He’s going to show me how to be a pirate.”

Emma glanced behind her, raising an eyebrow at Killian who shrugged in response, and then led her family down below deck to the cabin.

David immediately took a seat at the table, but Emma stood in the doorway, staring at the small bed - _her_ bed - and the bookshelf and she felt _comfortable_ for the first time since coming home. The palace might have been better decorated, but this, with Killian and Henry, was where she wanted to be and it was sinking in that, even though they still had to rescue her mother, she might just be able to enjoy that for now.

Emma joined her father at the table, Killian sitting in the seat beside her and taking her hand in his. “Why do you need to stay hidden?” Killian asked without prompting, the question directed to her. “What’s happened?”

“Never mind what’s happened.” David said quickly, Emma staring at him in astonishment. “Emma told me you were a lieutenant, but this? You’re a pirate captain, and you think you can just kiss my little girl? Or put your dirty pirate hands - hand, even - all over her? And that’s another thing that I’m not happy about. Who replaces their hand with a _hook_? That’s just asking for someone to get hurt.”

“Dad!” Emma hissed, her hand tightening around Killian’s. “It’s not up to you. Besides, Killian’s a good man.”

She glanced at the pirate, a soft smile dancing across her lips, but Killian was looking away from her, head bowed. “Your Majesty, I may be a pirate, but I do believe in good form.”

“Good form?” David repeated. “And how did my daughter even meet you? Kidnapping?”

“No. Emma was a passenger on this ship. She paid her way on board.”

“And you accept anyone who wants a ride, do you?”

“She intrigued me.” Killian beamed at her, twisting in his seat so he could brush her hair away from her shoulder with his hook. Emma watched her father, concern and anxiety written on his face when the metal of Killian’s hook touched her, and she smiled softly at the pirate, reaching up to run her finger across his hook. “And I can promise you that letting her onto the ship was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

David scowled at Killian, then glanced awkwardly around the room. “Right, well, you hurt her and I promise you that I will figure out every crime you’ve committed and punish you extremely severely for every single one. And then I’ll do something else, something even worse that I haven’t thought of yet, but I guarantee will be terrible.”

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty, I’ll heed your warning.” Killian agreed. “However if I ever were to hurt Emma to any degree, I feel that any penance you could come up with would pale in comparison to the punishment I would deliver upon myself. I can assure you that I will try my hardest to make sure your daughter is happy.”

“What would make me happy right now is for the two of you to stop discussing me as if I’m not here, and instead talk about rescuing my mother. Remember, Dad, that the Evil Queen has your true love’s heart?” Emma said, irritated.

“Of course I remember.” David replied, nodding in approval when Killian released Emma’s hand in order to retrieve a map from one of the shelves. “But you’re my daughter, and I need to make sure that this pirate is good enough for you.”

~~~*~~~

They had spent hours in the Captain’s cabin, first explaining everything to Killian - from what they knew of the Evil Queen’s plan to what had happened in the hour before her wedding. David’s quick announcement that she had intended to marry had quieted Killian for a while, and even a quick kiss to his lips, much to her father’s chagrin, had failed to cheer him up.

Eventually, her father had decided to tolerate Killian and stop annoying him, and it was then that they had managed to get a vague plan in place. They would remain docked for a couple more days, while Killian’s most trustworthy crew members tried to find out everything they could about what Regina was making Snow do, and ideally, the best way to stop her. Killian had managed to surprise David when he announced he had snuck into the Evil Queen’s palace before, successfully, and that would help them this time, even if the security was not exactly the same.

When Henry had fallen asleep on his feet, they decided the meeting had gone on for long enough. Emma tucked Henry in the small corner bed, the one that used to be hers, kissed his forehead and then snuffed out the candles, leaving him to sleep. David had been given a bed in the crew’s quarters, warned about snoring, and then left to his own devices.

And then finally, Emma and Killian were left alone. For a few minutes, the two of them hovered awkwardly outside the door to the Captain’s cabin, Emma unsure if she would be sharing the bed with her son or if Killian had another bed he could direct her to.

Killian took her by the arm, leading her down the short corridor to the door she recognised as his, a door she had only walked through once, and then he paused, letting her go to scratch behind his ear anxiously.

“I know it’s been a while,” he started, glancing upwards as though he was carefully thinking out what he wanted to say. “And I know there are a multitude of things we need to discuss, but when we were together, I had never slept as well as I did with you beside me.”

“We’re still _together_ , Killian.” Emma interrupted, wanting to rid him of any ideas he seemed to have about the weeks apart changing their relationship. “I still love you.”

He swallowed, his gaze searching, and then he laughed shakily, pushing the door open and gesturing for her to step through. “Then, how about it? How do you feel about this being our room?”

She didn’t answer, stepping into the small room and then pulling him inside, the door slamming shut behind him.

Then she realised. They were alone. They were in _their_ room.

And they were alone.

And she needed to know _exactly_ why he took so long coming back to her.

Except before she could say anything, Killian grabbed her and pulled into a tight embrace, his entire body shaking, and he was saying the same thing over and over again, the way he had hours earlier.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Why?” she murmured, cradling his head with her hand and pressing gentle kisses to his hair. “What made you think such a thing?”

“It was everywhere.” He answered tremulously, his hold on her tightening. “Every port, every tavern. Everyone was speaking of your family’s deaths, saying that your father and you had been killed. And I heard no news of Henry. At first, I couldn’t believe it. If you died, I would feel it. I thought I knew that much. But then, every single time I heard it, there was some doubt and eventually, I thought it had to be the truth. That I’d lost you. That I’d left you without a goodbye, and a promise to see you again that I had failed to keep. I couldn’t come back here, not at first. I couldn’t come back here and not find you.”

“You would have known.” she told him, irritated by his reasons for not coming back to her side, despite knowing that right now, he must need reassurance she was with him. “This is true love, Killian. It has to be.  And you would have felt it. Did time away from me make you doubt my love for you again? Because I told you, in Oz, that you had to stop that. That I loved you no matter what, and that didn’t change because you weren’t with me.”

“Of course I didn’t doubt you.” he insisted, and she felt his fingers curl into her skin, holding her even closer. “But I’ve lost a woman I loved before. I was scared of knowing the truth, of what I’d become if I knew for certain that I’d lost you too.”

“You should have known.” Emma whispered, untangling herself from his hold and stepping back, making sure he was meeting her gaze, his own expression full of contrition. “You should have believed in me. In us. And I’m going to be so angry with you. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he breathed, his face softening as his remorse faded into confusion. “Why tomorrow?”

“Because it’s been over a month, Killian. I’m not going to spend the first night back at your side angry.”

He tilted his head, as if unable to process what she was saying, and Emma wasn’t going to wait for him to act, throwing herself towards him and kissing him, Killian stumbling backwards as he attempted to catch her, the room so small that the back of his knees hit the his bed - _their_ bed - and he collapsed onto it, Emma pressing herself as close to him as she could.

He reclined back as the kisses slowed, Emma loving the feel of him against her, the warmth of his lips on hers. She could feel the light pressure of his hook as he drew lazy circles on her back, their hands clasping, fingers laced together. Eventually, Emma pulled back to start placing light kisses on his jaw, his neck, Killian murmuring that he loved her, that he had thought he’d never have this again, and then he groaned. Emma kissed the same small area of skin, Killian exhaling shakily, and then she placed all of her attention there until he moaned again, and rolled her over.

Killian ground his hips down into hers, capturing her sharp, surprised gasp with another kiss, this one more desperate, deeper, _too much_ , his hand releasing hers to slide down her body and start undressing her, and this wasn’t what she had intended for them to do on their first night back together, but she didn’t want to stop. Not yet. She scrambled to return the favour, her hands gripping the hem of his shirt, but then his hand slid lower and he was stroking and teasing until she couldn’t do anything but grip onto him and sigh his name, and it was more intense, faster, than anything they’d done before.

And then he stopped, a final kiss pressed to her lips before he rolled off of her. She turned to look at him, a blissful smile on her face. “No more cavorting right now.” she breathed, and he chuckled. “My dad _is_ on this ship. I don’t know what he’d do if he suspected we were up to anything… improper.”

“You have a son.” Killian pointed out, speaking through a yawn. “What does he think you’ve been up to?”

“I’m not so sure he’s convinced Henry’s actually mine.” Emma admitted, rolling onto her side so she could look at him. “They still don’t remember him.”

Killian didn’t say anything, but she could see the sympathy on his face, his eyebrows furrowed. After a few minutes in the comfortable silence, she watched Killian stand from the bed and cross the tiny space to a small chest of drawers. He withdrew a shirt, tossing it to her, and then dug out his own nightclothes.

She changed into the shirt, burying her nose in the collar and inhaling it, smiling at the familiar smell of him, a grin crossing her face as he dressed.

When they finally stopped having to traverse realms and seas on quests, this life could be perfect.

He rejoined her in the bed, one arm around her shoulder, his fingers just able to stroke her arm, right where her scars were, and she smiled at him, pressing the length of her body against his side, her fingers splayed across his chest so she could feel each heart beat.

“Night, love.” He told her, his eyes closed, but Emma wasn’t ready to sleep yet. She wanted to look at him just a bit longer. “I’m sorry I was late.”

“You should be.” she replied, scanning his face one more time before letting her eyelids flutter closed. “But I still love you.”

~~~*~~~

Waking up next to Killian, in a bed, was something she hadn’t experienced often but during their weeks apart, she had wished to have him next to her every morning as she rolled over to face the empty space. But the sunlight had woken her, and she had opened her eyes to see him lying beside her.

And the day before hadn’t been a dream. He really was with her again.

For a moment, she glanced around the room, remembering that the last time she had been there, the walls had been decorated with drawings of Milah. But those drawings were gone. She doubted he’d gotten rid of the pictures completely, but she had to admit she was glad not to be sleeping in a room with the face of his first love gazing down at her.

There were a few new pictures, though. Drawings of her. And they weren’t as smooth as the self-portraits of Milah had been, the lines shaky, the shading slightly uneven, but it was clear Killian had drawn them.

When he was without her, he had hung the pictures in his room. And that meant more to her than she could have ever imagined.

Touched, she turned to face him, a tender smile dancing across her face when she noticed he was still asleep, still snoring softly. So she watched him, sliding her thumb over the curve of his cheek, admiring him.

She’d never taken the time to do that before, had always been too focused on a journey, but she had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. And Killian had a face that needed admiring, but only when he was asleep.

She imagined he would never shut up about if he knew just _how_ handsome she found him.

And she _was_ going to be angry with him when he woke up, because he should have trusted in them, but looking at him now, she could hardly bring herself to be at all upset. He _had_ come back to her, and although she wished he’d been quicker, she was uncertain what she would have done if she had constantly heard news of his death, the way he had.

Emma was still watching him when he awoke, smile widening when he stretched out and turned to face her. “You’re still here.” he mumbled, reaching out to brush some hair away from her face. “It wasn’t a dream. Not this time.”

“I missed your face.” Emma said in response, flustered by the look of total adoration that had appeared in his eyes the instant he looked at her.

“So this is you angry, is it?” he asked with a chuckle, leaning towards her for a quick kiss. “And I’m certain many people miss my face. I am devilishly handsome, after all. But I will admit that even my looks pale in comparison to you.”

“Is that why you drew me?”

Killian actually flushed slightly, before taking her hand, thumb brushing across her ring as he frowned slightly, raising it to his lips for another kiss. “They didn’t capture your beauty particularly well, I’m afraid. I only drew a few after we parted, others I drew when we were both on the Jolly Roger. But, once I thought you were gone, I didn’t want to risk ever forgetting your smile or your eyes or the way your nose creases sometimes when you’re thinking. So I hung them up on the wall.”

She kissed him one more time, surprised by his words, unable to be at all angry, despite his mention again that he had believed her dead, before getting out of the bed. Emma was certain that the longer they spent alone in Killian’s room, the more likely it was that her father would come looking for her.

Emma dressed quickly, a coy smile on her face when she felt Killian’s gaze on her, and then left the room before he could grab her and kiss again, something she could tell he wanted to do from the hungry way he was staring at her.

She went first to the Captain’s cabin, finding Henry wide awake and busy reading Liam’s Captains log, engrossed by what was written there. She joined him, reading the cursive over his shoulder, warning him briefly to be careful with the pages. The book was far too important to Killian for Henry to accidentally rip a page.

It was David who joined them next, greeting Emma good morning with a kiss to the forehead. “So, did the pirate find you a place to sleep?” he asked suspiciously, and Emma nodded quickly. “Did you share with Henry or did you have a bed of your _own_?”

“How did you sleep, dad?” Emma asked quickly, ignoring the amused grin of her son. “I doubt the crew’s quarters were anything like what you’re used to.”

“They were noisier than I had hoped, but the pirate did warn me about the snoring.” David said with a sigh. “Are you going to help us with the planning today?”

Emma shrugged. “First, his name is Killian, or Hook if you’d rather not be so personal. And secondly, I was planning on showing Henry around the ship. But I don’t think you and Killian will manage to be civil to one another without me there.”

David glanced down, appearing almost guilty. “Don’t let me stop you spending time with Henry.” he insisted, looking at Henry’s excited face. “I’m sure the pirate - sorry, Hook - and I will be able to tolerate each other without you around.”

“Good. Because he’s really not going anywhere, Dad.” she promised, smiling at the man in question when he finally strode into the room.

David turned to follow her gaze, looking from the pirate’s warm smile to the mark on his neck, the one Emma had made the previous night. “I guess I was naive to consider the idea that the two of you would be spending any time apart.” he muttered resentfully. “I did see your reunion, after all.”

“Don’t worry, Dad.” she teased, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “My virtue is as intact as it was before I met him.”

“Now I know you have a son, that hardly comforts me.” David scowled, determinedly ignoring Killian’s chuckles. “Can you show me the route you want to use to reach the Queen?”

With the planning starting, Emma took Henry out the room, the boy chattering eagerly about what he hoped to see.

But with the two of them confined below deck, there wasn’t much she could show him. There was someone she needed to see though.

It was only a few short steps to the galley, Emma pushing the door open and beaming when she saw the large, grey-haired figure of Jukes’ bent over the stove.

“Good morning.” she said cheerily, laughing when the cook spun around and peered at her, Henry squealing when he saw the man’s eyepatch. “It’s been a while.”

“Swan?” he asked gruffly. “Hook told me you were dead. I told him not to give up on you so quickly, but I guess you found him anyway.”

“It happens.” she said, letting go of her son to cross the small room and engulf the old sailor in a hug. “This is my son, Henry. I told you about him, remember.”

“And I told you that you’d succeed. That you’d get him back.” he said with a chuckle, releasing her from the hug to offer the boy his hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you, lad. I’m Jukes. Your mother told me a lot about you.”

“I’ve never heard of you.” Henry replied, Emma grimacing at his answer. “But it’s so amazing that you only have one eye. You’re like a real pirate, except you’re cooking and you’re not on deck.”

“I’m a bit old for all that activity and excitement.” Jukes ruffled Henry’s hair, the way David used to do, and her son grinned up at him, and Emma could see he was already attached. “But I can promise you that all these pirates, even your mother’s favourite one, wouldn’t be able to do a thing if I wasn’t here. Can’t look after themselves at all. Captain Hook may be an infamous pirate, but he couldn’t cook a meal to save his life. And without any meals, where would he be?”

That seemed to be something Henry needed to think very seriously about, levelling a curious look at the pirate. “So you’re a really important pirate.” Henry decided. “If I learn to cook, would I be a good pirate?”

Jukes chuckled, Emma smiling fondly at the two of them. “I suppose it would. But I’m sure Killian will teach you all the other things that pirates do.”

“He will. He already said he’ll teach me how to sail. But if he can’t cook, then he can’t teach me that.” Henry stated with a determined nod, Jukes glancing at Emma with an amused grin.

And Emma found herself watching Jukes teach her son how to make sweet biscuits, a treat for the crew while they remained in port.

She felt ashamed to admit she hadn’t thought of Jukes much after leaving the ship, had never considered that he too would be a part of her son’s life, but seeing the two of them mixing flour and sugar, she realized that Henry would be gaining more family than she thought during their time on the ship, and she was glad to have the opportunity to spend time with Jukes again.

Without him, she may never have found her son. He had cared for her, talked her through her fears of failing her son, of losing Killian.

She and Jukes chatted as he continued to show her son what to do, the recipe simple but taking Henry’s full attention. They spoke of the weeks she had spent with Killian in Oz, and of what had happened at the Dark One’s castle, but he refused to speak of the weeks that had just passed. Apparently, that was something Killian needed to tell her himself.

A few more minutes passed, Henry beginning to roll out the dough he had made, when they heard a commotion in the small corridor outside, the crew shouting for Killian, and Emma panicked, terrified that the guards had boarded the ship, had already found them.

Leaving Henry safely with Jukes, she followed the agitated crew members back to her father and Killian. A man in a red hat was talking hurriedly to Killian, someone she recognised as Smee, David appearing utterly devastated.

She rushed to her father’s side, confused when he looked away from her, his eyes red. “What’s happened? Killian?” Killian frowned, sharing an anxious look with Smee. “Is it my mom?”

“There’s been a public execution.” David croaked, Emma’s jaw dropping in horror. There hadn’t been an execution in their kingdom since the attempted one for Regina, one Snow had stopped. “A hanging.”

“On whose orders? Who?” she asked urgently. “It was on Mom’s orders, right? Regina’s already ruining her, making her do things she’s going to hate herself for when we get her heart back. Things she would never do it if she was herself.”

“She would _never_ do this.” David promised her, and his insistence made things feel even worse, her ignorance over what had happened weighing on her. “Emma, she would never do anything like this, especially to him. You have to remember this is the Evil Queen.”

“I remember. I saw her holding Mom’s heart, so don’t ever think you need to remind me.” She bit out. “But stop hiding what’s happened. Can one of you tell me?”

There was silence, Killian reaching out for her, but she stepped away, glancing between him and his father, desperate for one of them to just tell her.

“It’s Pinocchio, Emma.” David said finally, voice almost inaudible. “Someone told a guard they’d seen him helping us. He was hanged this morning.”

“Pinocchio?” she repeated, her voice cracking.

It couldn’t be Pinocchio. She’d seen him only days ago. He couldn’t be dead. He _couldn’t_.

But Killian and her father wouldn’t lie to her about something like this. Killian didn’t even know Pinocchio was someone she was close to.

Pinocchio had been a good friend to her, always had been, and Regina had killed him for it.

“He’s dead? Gone?” She asked, not needing them to reply. She still couldn’t believe it, couldn’t feel any grief, but when Killian reached towards her, she felt anger bubbling inside of her.

If Killian had just believed in them, had come back like he had promised, none of this would have happened. She would never have agreed to marry Graham, never given Regina the opportunity to take her mother’s heart, to control her mother. And Pinocchio would still be alive.

His hand closed around her arm, and she tugged it away, too furious, turning on her heel and running, out of the brig and up onto the deck, stumbling across the gangplank until she was back on dry land. Killian was yelling after her - Swan, not Emma - but she refused to listen.

She had to find Pinocchio. He couldn’t have died because he had helped her. She wasn’t sure how she could cope with that.

~~~*~~~

Emma had stumbled back up towards the palace town, trying to remain in the shadows and out of sight of the guards, even with her mind preoccupied with a storm of dark thoughts and tainted memories.

And when she got there, there was drawing nailed to door, a picture of Pinocchio’s face, the words ‘Public Execution’ stamped across it. Emma dug her nails sharply into the palm of her hand, the other pushing the door open to see an empty workshop, the small toys Pinocchio liked to make spread around the room as if there had been a struggle.

But it was the unfinished wood carving on the desk that truly brought the harsh reality down on her, the start of the ship Pinocchio had promised to make Henry. She collapsed to the ground, her hands cradling the small incomplete model, broken sobs falling from her lips.

She hadn’t known what he was risking when he let her and her family into his home. She should have rejected his offer for help, left him alone and _safe_ , but it was too late and he was gone.

And then Henry was there and he was hugging her, arms around her neck, crying into her, and she tried to comfort him through her own grief.

“I thought I should come and bring you home.” She looked up at Killian’s voice, seeing him standing in the doorway, his sorrowful eyes locked on her. “Henry wanted to know you were safe. I wanted to know you were alright. As alright as you could be.”

She sniffed, glad Henry hadn’t risked the journey inshore alone, but still conflicted over her thoughts on Killian. “How could I be alright?”

“I’m sorry.”

And Emma wasn’t sure if he was talking about Pinocchio, or about being late, or not believing in them, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t ready to accept an apology for any of them.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Thanks for the kudos and the bookmarks! And thank you to HawkEye733 for beta-ing! The next chapter will take a bit longer to be written as I'm away next week and then I'm back at uni. Enjoy this one though!

# Chapter 4

The journey back to the Jolly Roger had been made in near-silence, Henry sniffling occasionally or Emma failing to swallow a sob. After they had left the now uninhabited house, Killian had tried to take her hand, but she had refused, her fingers curling into a tight fist instead of letting him lace his fingers between hers and now Killian was walking ahead of them, his shoulders stiff and head bowed, the way it had been before he saw that she was alive.

And Emma knew it wasn’t fair, that it was only Regina’s fault, but every time she thought of Pinocchio’s death, there were so many what if’s. The only ones she could even start to dwell on was the what if Killian had stayed with her, or returned on time.

If he hadn’t failed her.

But as angry as she was, as furious as each new thought made her, he was still here and still trying.

Pinocchio wasn’t. The life that had been given to him, for being brave, selfless and true, had been ripped from him, taken by a rope in a grotesque semblance of the strings used to manipulate a puppet, once again subject to the will of his kingdom.

And then the three of them all stood awkwardly in the short corridor below deck, the unrestrained sounds of sailors merrily carousing in nearby taverns disturbing the silence, totally at odds with the torment she was feeling.

After a few moments, trying to figure out what she wanted to do, wanting to do _something_ , she kissed Henry on the forehead and sent him off to his room before retreating to her own, Killian following her.

“Emma?” he asked quietly, but Emma refused to turn around and look at him. “Do you want to talk to me? Do you need anything?”

His concern only made things worse and she spun round, reaching over his shoulder to slam the door behind them, Killian’s eyes widening. “Yes, _Hook_ , I do want to talk.” she hissed, his jaw clenching when she used the moniker that she hadn’t used since they left for Oz. “This is your fault.”

“What?” he asked, tilting his head and staring at her, hurt clear in his eyes. “My fault?”

“I never even wanted to get married anyway.” she started, ignoring the way he frowned in confusion. “Ever. I’ve always been happy _by myself_. But if you’d just come back, like you’d promised, I would never have agreed to marry Graham. And my parents would have accepted that. But you didn’t come, because you were too afraid, and I said yes and I gave Regina the chance she needed to hurt my mother, and make her hurt others and kill Pinocchio.”

He reached towards her, and she knew she was getting louder - surely, the crew could hear her words - but she couldn’t care right now. She could only see the abandoned house, the wooden figurines destroyed and thrown across the floor. “Why couldn’t you just come back? Why did you even have to leave? I don’t care that you’re a pirate, or that you have one hand, or that you crushed Zelena’s heart. I never did.”

She was aware that she wasn’t talking about Pinocchio anymore, that now she was dealing with thoughts she had determinedly ignored when Killian was away, when she had chosen to _believe_ in him. “All I cared about was that you would be the person to _stay_ with me and you should have known that. Because I told you that, before you loved me, before we left the Jolly Roger. But you did it anyway, and you may have disguised it by saying you wanted to be better and that you would come back, but you still left and when everything fell apart and I _had_ to agree to marry someone else, because people were dying, and my mother _lost_ her heart, you weren’t there. And you should have been. But you chose to leave. And because I loved you, I let you go. Because that was what you wanted. What you said you needed. But when I needed _you_ , you weren’t there.”

She took in a deep, shaky breath and turned away, not wanting to look at Killian when he was looking so _destroyed_. Because of her.

“I just, I h _ate_ all of this!” she snarled, slamming her hand angrily against the wooden frame of their bed. “Why does nothing go right? Why is it always up to me to fix things? I didn’t _want_ this. I wanted to spend some time with Henry, but instead I just got politics and _this_ and I wish it would just stop. All of it.”

“I’m sorry.” Killian said quietly behind her, his voice sounding flat. “I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man that I should have been and I’m sorry you lost so much because of it.”

It felt worse to have him _accept_ everything she was saying, to apologise for it. She wanted him to fight back, to rail against her and say things he didn’t mean and give her something to rage against so she could turn her sadness into anything else. Something she was more equipped to deal with.

“I’ll find a bed with the crew tonight, love.” he muttered, and she heard him turn around, turn to leave her. “You should get some rest. If you can.”

She didn’t know what she wanted, but him leaving the room wasn’t it. When she heard the creak of the wooden door opening, she spun to catch his sleeve, to stop him leaving. “Killian,” she breathed, her grip on him growing tighter when he didn’t step closer. “ _Please_.”

“What?”

The resignation in his voice was terrible, and Emma trembled at the thought that he might be thinking she was only keeping him back so she could hurt him more, take all of her anger out on him. “I’m sorry. Don’t go.” She ran her free hand across her face, exhausted. “I _need_ you now. You can’t leave. Please. Not this time.”

She stepped back to take a seat on the edge of the bed, her hand sliding from his sleeve to his hand, pulling him towards her. He was staring, even as he sat in the empty space beside her. “What do you want from me, Emma?”

“Just be here.” she whispered, twisting so she could start to undress him, ignoring the way his breath hitched as she tugged his shirt free from his trousers, throwing it off to the side and then busying herself with the brace that held his hook, fumbling with it in an attempt to take that off too, her fingers trembling, but then his hand was warm around hers and he was taking care of her instead.

When he had her dressed in his shirt, he placed her under the covers and finished changing before sliding into the bed beside her, his arm held out in invitation. Emma slid under it to lie against him, her palm flat against his beating heart, his hand playing with the ends of her hair and he angled his head down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“He was my oldest friend.” she whispered, a few tears escaping her when she shut her eyes. “He was the only friend who lived nearby, and even though he was older than me, he would come to the palace sometimes and we’d play hide and seek or pretend we were fairies or animals or something ridiculous like that. And when I was pregnant with Henry, he didn’t judge me, he just told me it would all be okay and he built me a crib and he made Henry toys. And now he’s gone.”

 Her barely held composure fell apart at the last word, and she turned towards Killian, resting her head against his chest, sobbing into him. He held her close, his hand cupping the back of her head as he murmured soothing words to her and kissed her hair again, embraced her until she stopped crying.

She wept onto his chest until she had no more tears to give, and then she pulled away and moved to the other side of the bed, turning so her back was towards him. “I’m still angry, Killian.” she whispered, feeling the mattress move slightly when he rolled a few inches towards her, trying to hear her better. “But I know I shouldn’t blame you. Not for Pinocchio. But if I talk right now, I know I’ll say something that will hurt you and I don’t want to do that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say or do anything, and then she felt him shift again, his chest firm against her back as his arms wrapped around her waist. “That’s alright, sweetheart.” he replied, a gentle kiss placed on the base of her neck. “As long as you’re here with me, I’ll take the silence any day.”

How could he be like this after what she had said to him?

She tried to sleep, but she was too distracted by the way Killian kept nuzzling into her hair and the memory of her final words to Pinocchio, promising to visit him when she finally got home. And now she would never visit him again.

And then when she finally yawned and felt her eyelids grow heavy, there was a quiet knock on the bedroom door and then it opened to show Henry, his eyes red-rimmed and his cheeks tear-stained, the unfinished ship held in his hands.

Emma felt terrible, her son’s own grief something she should have noticed and helped him through instead of dwelling on her own thoughts, because Henry had lost a friend too. She shouldn’t have let him go, alone, to the Captain’s cabin. She should have gone with him.

She looked at Henry, noticing the way he took a small step into the room, the way his finger was tapping anxiously against the wood of his toy, and she tried to sit up, Killian’s arms tightening around her.

“Lad?” Killian started, gently tugging Emma closer to his side of the bed so there was an empty space beside her. “There’s enough space for you too. If that’s alright?” Emma twisted in his arms to stare at him in shock, not expecting him to offer such a thing, but he seemed to take her look as disapproval, releasing her from his embrace. “Except, you probably don’t want that. How about you get in here with your mother and I’ll take your bed tonight?”

Before Killian could get out of the bed, Henry shook his head and darted across the room to lay at his mother’s side, the unfinished toy left on top of the small wooden set of drawers. “I don’t mind if you’re here too.” Her son said quietly, watching Killian settle back down into the mattress. “Mom might need you.”

“I’m fine.” she said pointedly, before Killian could get too comfortable. The sight of Henry’s tear stained face had made her guilt and anger rise back to the surface and she felt she needed to devote her time to Henry, refusing to admit the truth in her son’s last sentence. “You should go. Sleep in the captain’s cabin.”

For a minute, he looked at her and at Henry, and she thought she saw some longing in his eyes, but then he pushed himself out of the bed and strode out the room, grabbing the wooden ship from the drawers on his way out, the door shutting with a loud slam and causing Emma to flinch in surprise.

“Why couldn’t he stay?” Henry whispered quietly, one of his hands grabbing her sleeve. “Isn’t he family now? You said that when he came back, he would be family.”

“Our family doesn’t give up.” she said, aware that she sounded bitter and upset but the words fell from her mouth anyway. “He did. He’s not family, Henry.”

“I don’t understand.” he mumbled, letting Emma jostle him until her arm was wrapped around him, holding him to her side, his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, kid.” she told him, watching him yawn. “You should never have had to deal with any of this, and when you did have to, I said the wrong things and I left you alone and I’m sorry.” Henry said nothing, just gazed up at her. She smiled shakily down at him and then pulled him even closer. “Sleep well, Henry.” she muttered. “I promise to protect you from the nightmares.”

David used to say that to Henry, when he was younger and had dreams about monsters under his bed or in his closet, lighting a candle if the nightmares refused to go away, but David didn’t say things like that anymore. Not to his grandson.

"And Grandpa and Killian will protect you?” Henry asked, his words slurred with sleep.

She didn’t answer.

She didn’t really sleep either.

~~~*~~~

Emma had waited for Henry to wake up before venturing with him to the galley, accepting a bowl of thick porridge, a swirl of Juke’s homemade jam on top, from the chef himself. Henry was given one too, the jam displaying a crude drawing of a ship, and then Jukes began to tell him stories of Lost Boys and mermaids and Henry was utterly absorbed in the man’s words.

With her food finished, she left Henry to be entertained and made her way to the captain’s cabin, hearing Killian and her father discussing something inside. She opened the door, but the two of them seemed oblivious to her entry and she took a moment to observe their interactions.

Killian looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and when Emma looked around the room, she noticed the bed looked unslept in.

And beside him on the table was the toy ship, now finished, albeit crudely.

Emma remembered, months before, how he told her he had never slept in the captain’s cabin - in Liam’s cabin - and last night, she had sent him there without any thought at all.

And he hadn’t slept. He’d sat up all night to finish Henry’s toy.

The tears that had been on the brink of falling since her son fell asleep, when she felt alone even with her son clinging onto her, when she had regretted sending Killian away, threatened to finally escape, so Emma inhaled deeply and tried to focus on something else. Something that wasn’t the toy that had been made by Pinocchio and her thoughtful pirate.

Something like the map of realm laid out before Killian, her father muttering to him as he drew rough sketches of their palace, appearing to be marking every possible entrance onto the diagram.

She felt better than she had the night before, and seeing David and Killian’s determination relaxed her. If both of them were resolved to stop the Evil Queen, Emma was certain they would manage it, and the sooner they did that, the greater the chance that fewer good people would die.

She stood in the doorway, watching the two men actually getting along until they noticed her. David smiled at her, sympathy evident in his expression, his own eyes dulled. Killian, however, beamed at her, gesturing down at the drawings in front of him. “We’re fixing everything.” he stated, and of _course_ that’s what they were doing. “We’re going to go and talk to the Queen’s ambassador.”

“To Graham?” she repeated, glancing down when she felt a small hand slip into hers, Henry beside her. “To do what?”

“He warned you, didn’t he?” David asked, waving at Henry in greeting. “He tried to warn you. He might want to help. He _has_ helped our family before. He might be able to tell us more of what Regina wants, why she’s going to such lengths to destroy Snow.”

“Besides, he’s definitely involved.” Killian informed her. “The rumours around the realm, of your deaths, were said to be because of civil unrest. I heard that your mother would be remaining in control of the Kingdom, despite her losses, with the Evil Queen’s ambassador as her new advisor. And I’m certain, now I know what happened to you, that those rumours were from Regina herself. If so, she was manipulating Graham into a position of power.”

“So you’re thinking he knows more than what he told me before our wedding?” she asked, crossing over to his side to look down at the diagrams of her home. “And you truly think he will help us?”

“I believe I can make him help us.” Killian said, his tone dark, stubborn. “Admittedly I had intended to speak with him even before I learnt how false the rumours were. With his new position, I had to admit I was doubtful your passing had occurred the way the rumours insisted. I came back to speak to him so I could know the truth.”

It hurt that he had come back for Graham, and not because he had even a shred of hope that she was alive and waiting for him, but she was grateful he had found something to come back for, something that had led him to her.

“I’m going with you.” Emma stated, angling her head to look at Killian, her finger running gently across the thick black lines he had drawn, the way into her old home. “I want to know why he befriended me if he knew the plan the whole time.”

“Your father and I thought it would be best if I went alone.” Killian protested, sharing a look with David as if he had known she would ask to accompany him. “I’m not at as much risk if I’m found in the palace. I’m not the one that Regina’s desperate to kill, and if I am caught, I’m sure I can bluff my way out of the guards’ hold.”

“What would you say?” Emma asked, raising an eyebrow at his certainty. “You got lost?”

“The Evil Queen and I have a history, Emma. I’ve told you this.” Killian muttered, shame written on his face when David’s amicable expression changed to a concerned, angry glare. “I’ve worked with her before. I might be able to convince her that I will work with her again.”

“You’ve worked with Regina?” David asked, Henry echoing his question. “And, Emma, you knew this? And you still trust him?”

Emma ignored her father, keeping her gaze firmly on Killian. “No. You’re not going by yourself. I know the palace, I know Graham, at least I think I do, and I’m not willing to risk losing you just so you can ask some questions that we aren’t even sure you’ll get answers to.”

Killian gaze softened at her words, but he shook his head. “No. If that’s your reason for going, then your father can accompany me. You should stay here, where it’s safe. With Henry.”

“I won’t let him get hurt, Emma.” David admitted grudgingly, but Emma just sighed angrily. She knew Killian wanted her to be safe, he always had, but he’d never actively tried to stop her from doing something before. Instead, he had been by her side, the two of them looking after each other.

“I’m going.” Emma said firmly. “Dad, I can’t lose you too.”

Killian bit his lip, but Emma’s words seemed to have convinced him and he nodded. “I’ll give you a sword and we’ll sneak in together, once it’s dark. We’ll find Graham, ask him some questions, and we’ll be back on board the ship before sunrise.”

“Mom, do you have to go?” Henry’s voice was quiet, her son still standing at her side, hand still in hers. “He might hurt you again.”

“Again?” Killian and her father asked in unison. David looked furious, his expression matching Killian’s.

“He was in charge of killing us, remember?” she said breezily, shivering at the memory of Graham lunging at her. “But my hero, Henry, saved me.”

“Good job, lad.” Killian said, his voice shaking. “But don’t worry about him hurting her. He’ll be dead before he gets a chance to even touch her.”

“Dead?” Henry squeaked, and Emma reached out to hit the pirate’s arm with slightly more than a playful force. “You’re going to kill him?”

“It’s not part of the plan.” Emma promised, eyebrows furrowing as she gazed up at Killian. “We won’t be killing anyone. Not unless we absolutely have to.”

Killian shrugged in response. “Your mother won’t be harmed by anyone.” he said, and Emma’s scowl deepened when he made no move to reassure her son that no one would be killed. “I won’t allow it.”

~~~*~~~

_ She was sitting in the palace courtyard when she heard him approach, his footsteps deliberately loud, so as not to surprise her. _

_ She hadn’t seen Graham since he told her he couldn’t feel anything, and he was looking surprisingly awkward, twisting his hands together. “I was glad to hear you had returned.” he told her, taking a seat beside her on the stone bench. “Despite knowing it was rather presumptuous of me, I have to admit I thought you had left because of what I said to you.” _

_ Emma remembered how it had hurt, confirmed her belief that no one could love her, but she didn’t feel that anymore. She could only be thankful for that conversation, the one that had sent her running into the West Wing and to the music box. _

_ And she knew, now, that she had just needed to meet the right person. _

_ “I didn’t, so don’t feel guilty anymore.” she reassured him, and his expression softened into a warm smile. “I hadn’t expected to see you. I assumed you would have left after our engagement amounted to nothing.” _

_ “I remained as an ambassador.” he explained, looking away from her to stare up at the stars. “I want peace, even if it is something I have to fight for. I am glad I stayed though, as it meant I got to see you again. I did want to apologise for what I said, but I didn’t get the chance.” _

_ “Well, I’m accepting your apology now.” She grinned at him, noticing how he looked older, his face lined, a few more grey hairs. “But you really didn’t need to say anything. I needed to leave the palace, and I’m glad I did. And it really did have nothing to do with what you said. I’m a big girl, Graham, and I could deal with that.” _

_ “Glad you did?” he repeated, before shooting her a knowing look. “Because of Henry? The whole palace is talking about him, the mysterious boy you brought back with you. I’ve heard that you’re claiming he’s your son.” _

_ “And you think that’s insane, do you?” she bit out, irritated by the change in topic. “Because surely the kingdom would remember the princess having an illegitimate child a decade ago?” _

_ “I don’t know what to believe about his lineage.” Graham acknowledged, but then he was gazing at her with the same appreciative look from their day at the archery range. “But I know from experience what matters isn’t who gave birth to you, but who raises you, who **chooses** to love you. And if you love Henry like a son, then that’s all that matters. I think it’s admirable that you’ve brought him back with you and chosen to care for him, when you had to know how people would respond to his presence.” _

_ Emma looked at him in surprise, having never expected to hear such words. Since her return, she had only been made to feel guilty about bringing Henry back, been made to regret coming home, but Graham’s words made her feel far better about her decision to attempt to reunite her entire family, even with their missing memories. _

_ “Thank you.” she breathed, and his gaze softened further, into a look she didn’t expect or want to see. “That means a lot.” _

_ He sat beside her in silence as Emma tried to identify the stars, wondering if Killian was looking up at them too, and she felt a light touch to her hand. Graham had reached out but Emma pulled her hand back before he could take it. _

_ “I want to feel something for you, Emma.” he declared suddenly, and she spun to face him. “I want to try. And I understand if you don’t want anything, but I think we could at least be friends. Besides, the deal is still valid. If it’s what you want to do, you can marry me and bring peace to our kingdoms.” _

_ “We can’t be more than friends, Graham.” she protested, wanting to explain and tell him all about Killian and how she’d found the person she loved more than anything, except her son, but it was too hard, too raw for her to mention him. “And I can’t marry you. Don’t try to make me.” _

_ “I didn’t mean to make you feel obligated.” he said instantly, as though he realised just how his words had sounded. “Marriage or no marriage, I will try my hardest to stop the war. I just wanted to let you know it’s still an option. If it’s not an option you want to take, I’ll be a friend, nothing more.” _

~~~*~~~

Emma and Killian had left the Jolly Roger as soon as the sky turned red with the setting sun, Emma leaving her son with a quick kiss to the forehead and her father with a hug, the king insisting Emma take his sword with her. The walk inland had taken just under two hours, the time spent in a slightly uncomfortable silence. Emma wanted to ask why Killian had tried to stop her from going with him, or if he would have ever come back if he hadn’t heard rumours of her mother ruling alongside Graham, but at the same time, she didn’t want to hear the truth if it was going to hurt.

She already hurt enough.

They traipsed quietly along the town walls, passing the wooden hut that had so recently been Pinocchio’s home, until they reached the side of the palace, and then Emma led Killian to the unassuming door of the servant’s quarters, the unguarded entrance closest to Graham’s room. Ear pressed against the door, she listened for any signs that servants were nearby. She didn’t want to run into any more people than necessary, as they would either turn her in or not, and if not, she knew what they were risking.

But the palace sounded almost deserted, and when she pushed the door ajar, the hallway was dark.

She didn’t want to think where the servants were.

Tiptoeing, she led the pirate along the winding corridor and up a spiral staircase to the guest suite, where Graham had been staying since his arrival at the palace months earlier. Despite their attempt to get there quickly, and unnoticed, Killian kept stopping and gaping at paintings or ornate sculptures until he eventually took hold of her arm and turned her to look at him. “This place, this marvel, was your home? And you honestly wanted to leave it behind to travel realms with me and Henry?” he whispered, his eyes searching hers intently. “You would have left all of this to be with me?”

“We don’t have time for this.” she hissed, trying to stay as quiet as she could. “Why are you asking me this now?”

“Humour me. Would you?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask.” she bit out. “What do you _think_ I would have done?”

Killian’s jaw clenched and he simply gestured for her to keep walking, following Emma along the corridor until they stopped outside the white, gold-trimmed door of Graham’s room. They had a brief, wordless exchange, fighting over who would go in first, but Emma gave in, allowing Killian to step in front of her.

It would be better for Killian to restrain the huntsman before he caught sight of Emma, just in case he attacked her again.

He burst through the door, Emma following him and watching with apprehension as he ran at the huntsman, Graham’s eyes wide as he jumped up from his seat, hand reaching for the knife he always carried. He didn’t have the opportunity to fight back, Killian’s forearm against his neck as the pirate forced him back down to the chair.

“Swan, tie him up.” Killian muttered, pointing his hook towards the curtains. “As tight as you like.”

She rolled her eyes, but darted across the room to take the curtain ties, the huntsman stopping his struggling when he saw her, and then using them to tie Graham’s wrists to the arms of his chair. Despite not wanting to hurt him, his hand twitched towards her at her approach, and she tied him tighter than she would have wanted.

“Emma?” he asked, and she finally looked him in the eye. They weren’t empty, the way they had been when he lunged at her, but were soft, much like they were when he had taught her archery. Back when she had almost kissed him. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know how dangerous it is for you to be here?”

“I need to know more, Graham. You need to tell me anything you know, anything that can help me or my mother.” She was kneeling in front of him, looking up at him imploringly and he was staring down at her in a way he hadn’t since before he told her he couldn’t feel for her. “I know you’ve saved her before. And my father. You can’t want to let her die like this.”

“I don’t know what I can tell you.” he said, looking away from her. “I don’t know how much I can say before it’s too much and then I can’t tell you anything.”

“Well, tell us what you can.” Killian said, his voice clipped, and Graham stared up at him as though he had forgotten the pirate was there. “So that Emma hasn’t risked everything for nothing.”

“This is who you were waiting for.” Graham stated quietly, his knuckles white as he clutched the arms of the chair. She heard Killian swallow, and she twisted to see that he was grimacing, guilt written on his face.  “The person you love.”

“It is.” she answered quietly, watching Killian when she spoke, watching the way he bit his lip and smiled slightly, his intense gaze softening.

“I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t get married then.” Graham said with a wry laugh. “I am glad he came back for you, Emma, but now isn’t the time for catching up. I’ll tell you what I can.”

“What is she planning, Graham? I’ve heard the rumours that were spread throughout the realm. Why? What does she want?” Emma didn’t want to waste any more time, each moment spent with Graham and in the palace risking her own capture.

She just needed answers. And then they could run away and save her mother.

“The rumours? Of your death?” Graham clarified, Emma nodding. “Regina’s plan is what it’s always been. To take everything your mother has. Killing you and your father would take her happiness, but Regina wants the kingdom too. She spread word that there were rebellions in your kingdom, uprisings and then in the weeks before our wedding, she spread the news that a violent uprising had led to your death. And your father’s death.”

She had guessed that much, but it was nice to have confirmation. She felt Killian’s hand graze the small of her back, as if he had wanted to reach towards her and pulled away, and she wondered if maybe all the talk of rumours were bringing back memories from their time apart, that he wanted to touch her just to reassure himself that she was there.

“With rumours of such violence, no dignitaries were going to risk attending your wedding, especially with your rumoured demise. Regina wants to control your mother, but she doesn’t want people to suspect she’s behind it. If any other kingdoms hear of Snow’s new, vicious regime, it will make sense. After all, they believe that the people were behind your death.” Graham was speaking quickly, as if trying to get as many words out as possible. “And then, Snow will become a ruler the people will despise, punishing them for nothing, taking their money, doing anything that will make your people hate her. Until they don’t want Snow as their Queen anymore, until even Regina looks like a better option. She doesn’t just want the kingdom, Emma, she wants them to want her too.”

“And how long does she plan to take, ruining the kingdom?” Emma was desperate, needing to know the time they had before Regina took everything from Snow, before her mother was destroyed by the things she would be forced to do. “How long do we have before Regina kills her?”

Graham looked at her, blinked, and in that moment his eyes became empty again. He struggled, trying to reach her, but Killian moved faster than she would have thought possible, his hand wrapping around the huntsman’s neck. “Tell her.” He snarled, his face only inches from Graham’s. “How long?”

“I can’t.” Graham said, gritting his teeth as if every word was a struggle to get out. “You need to go. _Now_.”

“Come on, Graham.” she pleaded. “Just tell me one more thing. How long?”

Graham blinked, the emptiness fading slightly into the fond look he sometimes gave her, and he opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could escape, he yelled, body convulsing within the restraints and Emma knew what was happening, and why he’d suddenly seemed so different when he attacked, why a man who had saved her family so many times had tried to destroy them.

Regina, wherever she was, was crushing his heart.

Killian knelt beside her, fingers scrambling to untie one of the ropes around Graham’s wrist, Emma copying him, but before they could free him, before they could do _anything,_ it was over, his head lolling forward to rest against his chest, his eyes closed.

He’d died in front of them, died because Emma had insisted on asking one more question, even when he told them he couldn’t say anymore, that he needed them to go.

She collapsed forward, her forehead against the huntsman’s calf, crying her apologies to him, even though she knew it was too late for him to hear them.

She hated this, everything falling into place in her mind as she realised the extent Graham had been controlled and manipulated by Regina. She remembered the story her mother had told her, how he had set her free, and even then he had been working for the Evil Queen.

Thirty years of imprisonment for it to end like this, tied up by people he wanted to help, his heart finally crushed, turned to dust in the hands of Regina.

He had been trying to help, fighting against her domination control with every word, and he had died for it. Because of Emma.

She felt almost oblivious to everything else, clinging to Graham’s body even when she felt Killian start to prize her away and physically lift her into his arms. He carried her out the room, Emma‘s eyes never leaving the slumped figure of Graham until they came to the top of the stairs and her view was cut off.

She could distantly hear a commotion in the palace, vaguely aware of Killian abandoning all stealth to start hurrying back through the hallways, each step jostling her in his arms, but she just buried her head in his shoulder and tried to stop the tears falling down her cheeks.

And she was too much in shock to pay attention to anything else that happened, running alongside Killian when he finally put her down, the guards shouts following them all the way to the waterfront, and then she was sat on the deck of the Jolly Roger, arms wrapped around her knees and Killian was yelling orders, sails rising and the wind catching them.

And then the Jolly Roger left her kingdom, her palace and Graham behind.

~~~*~~~

David finally took her inside, begrudgingly walking her to the room she shared with Killian, before kissing her forehead and promising everything would, eventually, be alright. She lay on the bed, on top of the blankets, stare locked on the ceiling, her father copying her and reclining next to her.

“I think I may be getting seasick.” her father said eventually. “I’m not used to all of this swaying back and forth.”

“I know what you’re doing, Dad.” Emma said quietly, personally finding the rocking of the ship comforting. “You trying to stop me from thinking about Graham. And Pinocchio.”

“I don’t think I can stop you from thinking about them. I know you were close to both of them.” David told her, sighing. “But you don’t need to deal with it alone. You know I’m always here for you, and I am growing rather fond of Henry and I know he’s there for you too. And Hook, I may not like him, but I know he’d do anything for you and I can’t disapprove too much of a man like that.”

“But he didn’t come back for me. He left me and if he hadn’t heard about Graham, he would never have come back.” she whispered.

“I don’t know. I think he would’ve.” David admitted reluctantly. “Eventually. He thought you were dead, and imagine how terrible he must have felt, and what coming back here would be like for him.”

“But if he’d believed in us, then he would have known I was alive. Wouldn’t he have felt it?” She was desperate for an explanation, hoping her father would be able to give her one, to tell her something that might make her feel slightly better. “You knew when Mom went under the sleeping curse. And you came for her.”

“And if I hadn’t experienced that for myself, I wouldn’t have thought that could happen.” David said slowly, Emma rolling on her side to face him. “True love is rare, Emma. I doubt Hook would have known what he would feel if you truly had died. You know because of me and your mother, but if you were anyone else, would you be upset at him believing the rumours? If you had heard rumours of his death, and you didn’t know the pain you’d feel the _instant_ you lost him, would you have been so certain?”

“And do you think what we have is true love?” Emma asked, desperately. “Killian and me?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” Her father told her, a sad smile on his face as he gazed at the pictures of her on the wall. “I really wouldn’t be surprised if you were, although I have to say that I hope it’s not something you ever need to test. And that man, the one steering the ship for us and taking us to your mother, he’s worried sick about you. And he thinks you don’t want him with you anymore, that you don’t want his comfort. I know you’re hurting, but don’t hurt yourself anymore by keeping him away. If he’ll help, let him. Let him love you, Emma. Don’t waste time being apart when you know how easy it is to lose someone.”

Emma reached out to take her father’s hand, clasping it between both of hers. “You’re not going to lose Mom, Dad.” she muttered, and he smiled at her. “We’re going to get her back.”

“I know we are.” he said, pulling his hand away and getting up from the bed. “Now, I’m going to go check on Henry. Do you want me to send Hook along, or do you want some space?”

She shrugged halfheartedly, and David raised an eyebrow. “Do what you want.”

“I’ll send him along.” He promised, and then left the room.

She sighed, closing her eyes and just concentrating on the movement of the ship. Everything felt like too much, the threat of Regina feeling closer than it ever had before. Although she had grown up hearing terrible stories of the Evil Queen, the kingdom constantly battling her, she had never seemed real before. There had always been the knowledge thatgood would win and something would stop her from doing real harm. And now people she cared about were dying, the force of good was losing and Emma was unable to stop any of it.

And she’d blamed Killian and said such hurtful things to him, and he’d held her anyway, until she sent him away. He’d left without a word, left for the room full of memories that haunted him and tried to do something to help, finished Pinocchio’s toy for Henry.

She heard the creak of the door opening, but she didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t need to in order know it was her pirate.

“You asleep, sweetheart?” he asked in a whisper, Emma shaking her head in response. “I would have been with you earlier, but I wanted to get as far from the shore as I could. It didn’t help that the crew’s in a bit of an uproar.”

“Uproar?”

He didn’t answer immediately, Emma hearing him close the door and cross the room before she felt the weight of him sitting on the mattress beside her. His finger brushed against her hand, cautiously, as if he thought he needed her permission to take her hand now. “Unfortunately, we had to leave rather urgently.” he explained, his fingers finally entwining with hers. “So we _may_ have left Skylights behind.”

“You left someone behind?” she asked, finally opening her eyes to peer up at him, his face softening into a relieved smile when he noticed she was looking at him.

Killian nodded, chuckling slightly when Emma gaped at him. “We didn’t realise until it was too late and then we couldn’t risk going back for him. I couldn’t let Regina hurt you anymore. I detest how much she’s hurt you and your family already and I wasn’t going to give her an opportunity to do any more damage.”

Her father’s words echoed through her mind and she sat up, her back resting against the headboard. “You know, Killian,” she began, raising his hand so she could kiss it, just a light brush of her lips to the back of his hand. “You could say _our_ family, if neither of us are planning on going anywhere.”

He stared at her, shocked, before leaning close to kiss her forehead, Emma’s free hand rising to grip his shirt and hold him to her. “We’ll defeat the Evil Queen.” he promised, Emma nodding in agreement. “And we’ll do it together.”

“She’s threatened my parents for years, killed _so_ many people,” she said, voice breaking when Graham’s lifeless form rose unsolicited in her mind. “Now we’re going to take her down.”

“Exactly.” He agreed, letting go of her hand and shifting so he was sat beside her, his arm around her shoulder, thumb caressing the nape of her neck. “And your mother will be fine.”

She let him hold her for a long time, his face buried in her hair, and eventually, she did feel better. Not as happy as she had been with him in Oz, but better than she had since Pinocchio’s death.

And she angled her head to look up at him and tell him, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was slightly slowed. She gazed at him, wondering if this was the first time he’d slept since the day before, and then leaned up to kiss his jaw.

He woke up at the touch, clearly not too deep into his slumber. “Emma? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m feeling sorry.” she admitted, looking down so that she didn’t have to stare into his eyes while she apologised for everything she had said. “Sorry about yesterday. It’s not your fault, Killian, and I only said it because I was angry with everything. Regina would have figured out a way to make all of this happen, even if I didn’t agree to marry Graham.”

She felt him tense underneath her, felt his hook tap against the gold of her ring, and she was certain that he hated the thought of her choosing another man. He needed to know what had happened, why she had allowed herself to agree to such an arrangement, but she couldn’t do that today. “You really would have married him?”

“I know we need to talk about this.” she said, pulling her hand out from under his hook so she could cup his cheek, force him to look at her. “And we will. But I don’t want that today. I don’t care that it took Graham to bring you back to me, because you did come back, and I don’t care that you stayed away because you thought I was dead, because how could you know that you would feel it? All I care about is that we’re not still apart, that we’re together and I don’t want us to not talk anymore. I just don’t want to talk about that _today_.”

“We weren’t talking?” he said teasingly, and she beamed at him, at the way he had so easily acquiesced to what she wanted. “You weren’t doing a great job of that, love.”

“But you agree, don’t you? You don’t mind that we won’t talk about Graham now.”

“Of course I agree.” Killian tilted his head down, Emma meeting him for a kiss, one that only lasted seconds but made her feel like she was finally _breathing_ again. “I thought of you everyday. I _loved_ you everyday, even when I believed you were lost to me. All I want, all I could ever want, is to love you and have you by my side. And if that means I have to wait for you to tell me about the man you nearly married, that’s more than fine.”

He had made her smile, Emma realised, brighter than she had in weeks, and she couldn’t stop herself from brushing her lips against his, just one more time. “Everything will be fine.” she said, talking more to herself than him. “As long as we’re together, and Henry’s here, everything is going to be okay.”

  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to HawkEye733 for betaing!

#  **Chapter 5**

Emma woke up to see Killian gazing down at her, his knuckles brushing lightly over the curve of her cheek and an adoring smile on his face. But even with the soft expression, he looked exhausted, as if he had gone yet another night without sleep.

She knew he hadn’t slept the day before - Henry’s new toy ship was proof of that - but after a journey to and from the palace, she would have expected him to sleep easily beside her. But there were still dark rings around his eyes, his eyes slightly dulled with fatigue, and Emma couldn’t understand why.

“Were you watching me all night?” she mumbled tiredly, raising a hand and trying to smooth away the evidence of his weariness. “Because I’d prefer it if you got some sleep.”

“I was thinking.” he replied, turning his head to nuzzle towards her hand. “But I was looking at you at the same time. You’re too beautiful not to look at.”

“Charmer.” she said, a smile curving her lips despite her worry. “But really, Killian, why? What were you thinking about?”

“After everything you said to me,” He began hesitantly, and Emma bit her lip. She had apologised for that, but she should have known that an apology wouldn’t be enough to stop him thinking about it, especially when she knew how much he already doubted himself, despite her efforts to impress upon him what he meant to her. “I needed you to know everything before deciding you truly want this.”

“I know I want this.” she insisted, tilting her head so she could brush a kiss across his lips. “You know I want this. What I said, the other day, I was upset, I didn’t mean it. I love you.”

“But you need to know the truth.” he said quietly, shifting so he could wrap an arm around her and hold her close, as if he was worried she was going to leave. “Because I haven’t told you what I did after I left you.”

“You haven’t had the time to tell me.” Emma reminded him, but his anxiety and earnestness was making her worried. “You haven’t lied to me, have you?”

“No.” He answered quickly, but Emma knew he wasn’t lying. He wanted to reassure her, had spoken so quickly in order to leave no time for any doubt to form in her mind, but he still looked uneasy, and she knew he had something more to say, something less comforting. “But I have failed you.”

“Killian, no.” It was Emma’s turn to answer hurriedly, desperate not to let Killian believe that what she had told him the night before had been true. She truly did understand why he had been late, her father’s words had made her far more understanding of why Killian had believed her dead, and she didn’t care anymore that it had taken longer than he promised, because they had still found each other and he was still helping her. There was no way he had failed her. He had never failed her, not since the day they met. “You haven’t. I shouldn’t have ever told you that you did. But I was hurting, and I think I felt that because it was my fault Pinocchio died, that meant I didn’t deserve to have you comforting me and telling me everything was going to be alright. But you didn’t fail me.”

Killian swallowed and shook his head, and Emma wished he would listen to her. He could be as stubborn as her sometimes, and she just wished he wouldn’t listen so much to the voice in his head telling him he was worthless, when he was so much more. “I did. I don’t deserve you, Emma. I tried to be a good man, not just when you’re around. I never wanted you to have the responsibility of making sure I did the right thing. But I failed. After I left you, I went to Jefferson, to help him find his daughter, and he boarded my ship again and we travelled back towards your kingdom and planned how we would find her. I thought it was the right thing to do, but the instant I heard you were dead, the moment I started doubting, I left him. I stranded him at the docks and I would have done anything to get back here and get to you, to find out the truth. Until I heard more rumours and it began to sound even more likely that when I returned to your docks - I couldn’t cope with the guilt if I found I had left you only to lose you. I wanted revenge, Emma. I wanted something I could focus on, someone I could blame so it wasn’t my fault you’d died. The instant I truly thought you were gone, I became the man I had always been, the one focused on vengeance.” His hand finally slid away from her cheek to lie by his side, his fist clenched and his jaw tight. “I’m not a good man, Emma, and I can only succeed when you’re with me.”

“Vengeance?” It shouldn’t have been the first thing she said, she should have been more concerned by everything else, but she remembered how much of a hold revenge had had on him when they first met. She never wanted to see that darkness in his eyes again, and she hadn’t, not since that day in Sherwood where he found her again, where he had the chance to take his revenge and refused to take it. “On who?”

“It doesn’t matter now. Not when I’m holding you.” He muttered, and Emma thought he sounded almost desperate, pulling her even closer. Emma let him, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. “I promise I’ll tell you later. My need for vengeance may have been a mistake, but what I did because of it may be useful to us now. At the moment, I just need you to know that I don’t think I can ever be the good man you deserve, but I hope you can still love me anyway.”

“Of course I can still love you. You’re not the man you think you are, Killian. I don’t know what you think a good man is. Maybe someone who is always making the right choices and doing the right thing naturally. And in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve had to make tough choices. And maybe you need to think about what you’re doing, but in the end, you’ve always done the right thing. And it might not come easily to you, but you try and you want to change and I think doing that, well, that makes you a good enough man for me.”

“Emma, I -”

She didn’t want to give him a chance to question what she said, so she kissed him before he could finish speaking, sighing into him when she felt his hand tangle in her hair and hold her close. “I think the only thing that everyone deserves is happiness, and we make each other happy, don’t we?”

“You make me happier than I could have ever thought possible.” He breathed, his forehead resting against hers and his expression awestruck.

“And if you ever doubt yourself again, you don’t need to go and try to be better. Just talk to me. This is _it_. I’m never going to want to stop being with you, so if you forget what type of man you are, tell me and I’ll remind you that you’re brilliant. Because you really are wonderful, Killian, even if you’d rather think that you’re a monster. So this week, maybe not today, but sometime, you’ll tell me everything you did in the past month and you won’t leave anything out, because I’ll love you no matter what and nothing will change that, and I’ll tell you the same.”

~~~*~~~

Even though Henry and her father were now on board, it was just as easy to fall into a routine as it had been during her first voyage on the Jolly Roger. Following another night where Henry wanted to sleep with his mother, Killian staying so that the three of them were huddled together when they woke in the morning, the pirate had brought breakfast to their room. Although Henry had yet to sleep in their room again, he had taken to showing up every morning and crawling into bed next to them, bringing breakfast that the three of them would share, the domesticity something Emma had dreamed of but could barely believe was actually happening

Killian would then head up to the deck, Henry accompanying him, and he would teach the boy how to man the helm and tie the sails and other things Emma wasn’t well-versed in but knew Henry enjoyed. Emma would spend time with either Jukes or her father, learning new recipes or helping memorise old plans of Regina’s castle.

Jukes, David, Henry and Emma would then share a quick lunch, Killian always too busy to join them as he had taken on Skylights’ jobs in addition to his own, and then she would finally go to her pirate’s side, where she would watch Henry scurry around deck, doing odd jobs or she would join Killian at the helm. Sometimes, she would just wrap her arms around his waist, rest her head between his shoulder blades, and other times, he would pull her in front of him and kiss her in front of the entire crew before taking her hands to the spokes of the wheel and steering with her.

Of course, there were hours when nothing could distract her from thoughts of her mother, or of Pinocchio and Graham and others who might have died since they left the kingdom. Killian would somehow always know, showing up wherever she was and bundling her in his arms, holding her and murmuring words of comfort until she felt better and willing to return to the light of the deck.

And there were moments when even her father had had too much of planning and preparing, and he would join them in the sun, teach Henry sword fighting until Henry complained his arms were tired and he needed food.

Everyone would eat on deck, the entire crew together, and Emma was finally starting to get to know all of them. Mullins had a fondness for telling brutal stories of battles they had endured, fought in the past, Emma having to shush him before the stories became too gruesome and Henry was bound to have nightmares, and Starkey always asked for seconds and then thirds of whatever meal Jukes had made.

When the crew eventually grew too rowdy, Emma would take Henry back to the Captain’s cabin, and even if she insisted that Killian should stay with the crew, he would accompany both of them below deck. Once Henry was tucked in and given a kiss on the forehead, Killian would lead Emma back to their room.

They were both far too aware of her father’s presence on the ship to fully give into the almost overwhelming need they had for one another, but Emma knew that with each day they were getting closer to completely letting go and finally being _together_. And yet, there were still times when he would be kissing her, pressed against her, one of her hands holding him close, when his hand would slide up her arm to link with hers and he would feel the metal of her ring and stiffen up, rolling off of her and letting her go. Emma knew she had to tell him that she wasn’t wearing it for Graham, that the peridot ring had never been about him and her marriage to him, but about her mother, but the thought of Graham was still painful, so she’d try to tell him everything through a kiss.

And Killian would kiss her back, and take her back into his arms, but she could tell that he became more distant, his kisses suddenly less deep, restrained.

They were finally falling into the life Emma had wanted them to share, but they were more closed to each other than they had ever been.

~~~*~~~

After five days at sea, Emma walked on deck to see Killian sat on the floor, his back resting against the railing. His brow was furrowed as he gazed upwards, towards the crows nest, and he was absently sharpening his hook with a metal file, something Emma had never seen him do before and found rather amusing.

“Making yourself beautiful?” she asked, moving to take a seat beside him, leaning into his shoulder. “Because you really don’t need to do that for me.”

“I’m well aware that I’m already devilishly handsome, Swan.” he replied, testing the point of his hook with his thumb and then sending her a smug look. “But we’re entering the Queen’s waters today, and I’d rather have my hook be as dangerous as possible. I’ve known many pirate ships that have been stopped by what she calls a navy, and I don’t want to risk losing you to them.”

“What she _calls_ a navy?” Emma repeated, grinning at him when he stretched his arm over her shoulders, the newly sharpened point of his hook tracing carefully controlled, delicate circles on her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“A navy should require good form. Whatever men Regina has working for her, they don’t have that.” He explained dismissively, looking away from her to glance back at the crow’s nest. “Now, I wanted to ask you before Smee took Henry up there, but Henry had already started climbing before I could tell him that.”

“What?” She was surprised by the change of subject, hurriedly following his gaze to see her son standing in the small basket rigged to the highest mask, a thrilled look on his face as he stared out across the sea. “He climbed up there without anyone watching?”

“Don’t worry.” Killian soothed, although she could hear a slight note of concern in his voice. “The instant I saw him scaling the mast, I took up watch here. Smee went after him too, so as to make sure he’s safe.”

She clenched her jaw tightly, for a brief moment imagining Henry toppling from the lookout and falling, unimpeded, to the ground, but then she saw Smee hovering anxiously behind the boy and remembered how Killian had only looked away from Henry when she showed up, and she smiled. If Henry wanted to take a post in the crow’s nest, she doubted anyone would have been able to stop him, and it was far better that he had the crew, who were growing increasingly fond of their eager young shipmate, looking out for him instead of sneaking up there, alone.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on him.” she muttered, cuddling closer to Killian as she watched her son shout nonsense words to Smee, hand above his eyes as he looked in all directions. She felt Killian brush a light kiss to her hair, but she knew that he was as focused on her son as she was.

If they could have _this_ , be this affectionate on deck as they watched over Henry together, she didn’t understand why she had the strange feeling that despite the fact that they were closer than ever, spending each night in a warm embrace and murmuring words of love when no one could hear them, there was something holding them further apart than they had ever been.

And then she was nearly blinded by the gleam of her ring catching the sunlight, and she knew what it was.

There were too many things that were hard to talk about, so they had simply kept it to themselves. On her first journey with him, when he had demanded information about her in exchange for his help, she had told him everything, even when it was difficult, and he had responded in kind.

They had let each other in, his demands only made to pretend that they hadn’t found a confidant in one another. That they wanted to _know_ each other.

And now they knew how strongly they felt, that this felt like true love, they were keeping things in. Talking about Graham would be no more difficult than when she admitted what Baelfire had done, and yet it was now that she was refusing to talk and explain the truth.

Both of them were stubborn, but Emma was willing to try and fix it. Because it was him, and she didn’t want them to feel like this anymore because neither of them were willing to speak first.

She knew, from last time, that if she told him something difficult, he would respond with a story of his own.

“Killian?” she muttered, glancing around to see all the crew were busy and not paying any attention to the Captain and her. “I didn’t talk about Graham before because it hurt.”

“I know it did.”

“But it shouldn’t have stopped me. I _want_ to be able to talk to you about it and I hate that I haven’t.” she admitted. “I think, waiting to tell you has made it into a bigger thing than it is. I just… when I came back home, and no one remembered Henry, a lot of things were said that made me regret ever coming back at all. But Graham, he understood. Even if he didn’t remember the truth, he accepted Henry and he accepted me. And I told him I didn’t want to marry him because I loved you, but then Regina killed hundreds, and I had to do something. I hadn’t known him long, Killian, but he was a friend. And he died because I wouldn’t leave, because I had to ask him just one more question.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, finding comfort in the movement of his chest as he breathed. Killian remained silent, but she felt his hand take hers, his finger running lightly across the ring.

“You would have married him then. For your kingdom.” He said quietly, and she knew that her reluctance to talk about her wedding had bothered him more than her silent grief. Killian understood grief, but maybe he didn’t understand that. He was ruled by love, and she struggled to imagine he would ever agree to something like a marriage if it was with someone other than the woman he loved. “You would have stood in front of an audience and promised to love him?”

“I suppose.” she answered carefully, feeling him tense underneath her. “But it would have been a show and everyone would have known. The marriage wouldn’t mean anything. It never did. I accepted, long ago, that I would never be married. I only agreed to marry Graham because I truly believed it would finally bring peace.”

She felt Killian nod, his chin hitting the top of her head with each movement, and she was afraid to look up and see that he doubted her words. “Never?” he said eventually, his voice hoarse. “Do you still think that? That you’ll never be married? Never is a long time.”

Emma had to see him when he said that, tilting her head so she could see what he was thinking, reading disappointment and uncertainty in his eyes. She knew what he wanted her to say, that she had met him and her mind had changed, that marriage had become a possibility, but she hadn’t thought that.

She hadn’t lived fully until she loved him, but she hadn’t had the chance to even consider actually marrying him, what with searching for the other person she needed, her son, and then returning without him to her castle. And then Emma thought of Graham, who she hadn’t loved, but had been kind and understanding, who had taken her hand months before and given her a ring, one she had long since lost, because he thought she deserved something real and he wanted to try his hardest to give that to her, and she shook her head. “I’ll never get married. I don’t want to.” She said firmly, determinedly ignoring how Killian’s hold loosened around her shoulders. “I’ve nearly been married two times, and all it’s brought me is tragedy.”

“What about third time lucky?” Killian whispered, so quiet she almost couldn’t hear it, and she remembered saying the same thing to him in Oz, when he said he’d lost both of his chances at happiness, and she stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was going to say it again so she could hear it properly.

If he was going to ask again.

But he didn’t. He said nothing more for a few minutes, his unreadable gaze locked on Henry, and then he shrugged and pulled her towards him again. “Have you ever heard of a pirate getting married, Swan? You needn’t worry about a proposal from me.” he stated determinedly, bending his head to slide his lips over hers and kissing her until they heard Henry shouting at them in disgust.

She wasn’t sure if that was the response she wanted.

She didn’t know what she wanted.

“This ring,” she said breathlessly, ignoring his smug smile when he noticed the state his kiss had put her in. “It’s not an engagement ring. It’s not from Graham. It’s from my mother. It’s the last thing she gave to me. She wanted me to know that even if I wasn’t marrying for love, there would always be people who loved me. And I don’t want to take it off until we’ve found her and she’s with us again.”

~~~*~~~

The following morning, Emma was in the Captain’s cabin with her father, Killian’s old drawings of Regina’s castle spread across the desk. David seemed to know the images off by heart, able to describe a vast amount of routes into the building without needing to look at the map, but they still had little idea about what to do once they reached the Queen herself.

David would have killed Regina, if not for the fact that he was doubtful that the woman’s death would be what Snow wanted. Snow had saved the Queen’s life before, and she may prefer to have the Queen punished in a way that didn’t result in the end of her life.

But both he and Emma were certain that a meeting with Regina was unlikely to end in anything other than a fight, and Regina would definitely be attempting to kill them.

With the magic she possessed, even incapacitating her would be difficult.

“I may have a suggestion on how to take down the Evil Queen.” Emma hadn’t heard Killian enter, turning around in surprise when he spoke up. He was leaning against the doorframe, and despite his bold proclamation, she could see he was nervous about something. “If you don’t mind, Your Majesty, I’d prefer to tell Emma alone.”

David gaped at him and then shook his head. “No. This is my wife we’re looking for, and I’m not going to let you plan her rescue without me.” He insisted. “If there’s something you know, you will tell all of us.”

Killian exhaled heavily, and Emma realised that it wasn’t just a plan he wanted to talk about. She’d told him about Graham, and the wedding, and now he was responding. He was going to tell her about his month away from her side, a month during which he must have discovered something that would be useful to them now.

“Dad.” she whispered, drawing her father’s angry glare away from the pirate. “I promise you that we will tell you everything you need to know. But this isn’t just about Regina. Can you please give us some time? I’m sure Henry would enjoy a sword fight or two.”

David seemed indecisive for a moment and then he turned back to Killian with a stern expression. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. Then I want to know everything.”

“You’ll know everything you need to know.” Emma repeated, pushing her father past Killian and out into the hallway before taking the pirate’s hand in hers and tugging him into the room. “Now, Killian, what is it?” He didn’t sit down, just stood and looked down at her and so Emma stepped closer, her hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “You can tell me.”

“I already told you that I abandoned Jefferson but it’s not the worst thing I did. When I truly believed you were gone,” He paused, looking up at the ceiling and swallowing. “I may have made a deal with the Dark One.”

“What? Another deal?” She exclaimed, dread settling over her as she thought of Killian being forced to do terrible things on the Dark One’s orders. “What for?”

“You know that I became suspicious of Regina’s involvement in your death, and I wanted revenge. I wanted her to pay for taking you from me.” he admitted in a low whisper, turning his head away when Emma tried to reach out and cup his cheek in her hand. “Surely it doesn’t surprise you. I sought vengeance for Milah for centuries, of course I would want the same for you.”

“Why would you do that? Why would you go to him?”

“I tried to be better. To not give in and attempt to kill her.” Killian still wasn’t looking at her, but he let her step closer and wrap her arms around him, head resting against his heart. “But I wanted to destroy her, to take _something_ from her, even if it wasn’t her life, and I thought that if I had the Dark One’s help, I wouldn’t fail at that.”

“What was the deal, Killian? What did he make you do?”

“Nothing.” Emma felt herself relax, her fingers grasping at the leather of his vest and holding him even tighter. She didn’t understand why Rumplestiltskin seemed to have been surprisingly magnanimous, but she was very thankful he had. “I promised him that if he helped me with Regina, then I would break into her tower once again and free someone I know he wants back. I told you, months ago, that I’d worked for Regina before. She found me in this tower, trying to get information from the prisoner and I saw her lock the door with a blood seal, something to stop anyone ever breaking in again. I understand that asking you to do this is risky, especially with your mother’s heart at risk, but if we get the opportunity to take even a tiny amount of Regina’s blood, we can get into that cell and we can get that woman. We have her, then we just have to say the Dark One’s name three times and he will come. And he will help.”

“Risky? You broke into that tower thirty years ago!” she said, her mind still racing as she tried to process everything he had just told her. “Do you have any guarantee that this prisoner is even still alive? That she’s still there? What would happen if we wasted time getting the Evil Queen’s blood and finding this cell only to find out that we have nothing to tell the Dark One?”

“If she’s not there, then Regina’s finally had her killed.” Killian stated. “We summon Rumplestiltskin anyway, because if he finds out what Regina did, there’ll be nothing that can stop him from killing her.”

“And if she is? Will we be summoning him just to kill the Queen?”

“He told me he had a way to rid this land of her without her dying.” He finally embraced her back, his cheek warm against hers, a relieved sigh escaping him. She supposed he had expected her to let him go, to get angry when she heard of what he had tried to do, and maybe she should. But they had wasted time already being angry at each other, and she’d promised him that nothing would change how she felt about him, so she didn’t see the point in any furious questions or irritated silences. “I wanted revenge, certainly, but I didn’t want her dead. I didn’t want my memory of you to be tarnished by a murder committed in your name. And I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to look at me and know that I never changed, that I’m still the vengeful pirate that you disliked before.”

“I never disliked you.” Emma said in confusion, wondering what he was talking about. “Never.”

“You tried so hard to make me better, to stop me from taking my revenge on Rumplestiltskin.” he explained, but Emma was still unsure what he meant. “And you must have thought you had succeeded when I let him live, when I chose you. But I’m still the same man you met before. The one you wanted to be different.”

“I never wanted you to be different.” Emma protested, her voice hoarse. She felt a confused jumble of emotions at his statements, taken aback that he could believe she had thought this all along. But maybe such thoughts were the reason he kept underestimating his own worth, if he truly thought she had been trying to fix him all this time. “Ever. I tried so hard to stop you taking revenge because I didn’t want to lose you. Because I already loved you. How can you even think that I wanted to change you? I didn’t want you to give up on your revenge because it was what I wanted. I just wanted you to know that you did have something to live for, that if it was what you wanted, you could be with me and we could _be_ something together. And you did know that, didn’t you?”

Killian didn’t say anything, turning his head slightly so he could press quick, light kisses to her cheek, down to her jaw and then more slowly down her neck, the kisses becoming harder, messier as he trailed them down to her shoulder, Emma’s hands clutching his vest so she could hold herself up.

And she wanted to let her eyes close and then tug at his hair until he raised his head and allowed her to slant her lips over his, to stumble backwards until the back of her knees met the bed and she was falling onto it, but she didn’t.

Because she wanted them to talk, to know everything so that things would be easy again, instead of sharing empty words and desperate kisses. And this was the only thing they had left to discuss, so she wasn’t going to let Killian distract her.

Except before she could pull back and ask him again, her father stepped back into the room.

“I thought you were talking about a plan?” he hissed, rushing over to them and tugging them apart. “Not this. I don’t ever want to see this.”

“We were.” Killian said slowly, but he was only looking at Emma. “Sorry about that, mate. I didn’t particularly want you seeing that either.”

David grimaced, but said nothing else when Emma disentangled herself from Killian and headed back to the desk. She started to explain, not wanting to get into detail with her father about why Killian knew about such a prisoner, but then she felt Killian’s strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her gently back towards him, David apparently too engrossed in the maps to notice.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I did know that.” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “I always knew that. But sometimes I look at you and I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have found you, and I’m just waiting for something to go wrong. I still feel like one day you’re going to wake up and realise that there is a part of me you don’t love, and then I’ll lose you.”

Emma didn’t look at him, worried her father would suddenly turn around and force his way into the conversation, that he could hear everything Killian had just said, but he was now muttering to himself and drawing out routes with his finger.

“I don’t doubt what you feel for me.” Killian continued, seemingly undeterred by David’s presence, although his voice _was_ almost inaudible. “But I find it difficult to believe that I’m actually worthy of this and that I’m not going to lose it. I’ve lost everyone I loved, Emma, and after what I’ve done, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was destined to lose you too.”

She didn’t even glance back at David, leading Killian out into the corridor so she could say what she needed to without her father as an audience. “I don’t know about the future, Killian. I don’t know if you’ll lose me or I’ll lose you or if we’ll just be destined to keep finding each other for the rest of our lives, but that’s why we shouldn’t waste the moments we have together now.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know. That we should stop thinking of the future and what might happen between us and all the ways we could lose each, and actually just enjoy each day and the fact that we are together and that we haven’t lost each other yet?”

Killian seemed deep in thought for a few minutes, and then a wide grin spread across his face. “Now that does sound like a good idea.” he agreed, leaning forward to bruise her lips with a hard, quick kiss. “But I would recommend the occasional planning. I doubt your father will be happy now that he’s alone in there with no one to talk to.”

“And no more secrets.” she decided, grinning when the pirate nodded. “I don’t like it when we don’t talk properly.”

~~~*~~~

They had talked. When the day was over, they had curled up in their bed and spoken about anything they could think of. Killian had told her about his adventures with Jefferson, not only in the  past month but in the years before they met, when the two men were in Neverland, and Emma had spoken of the last few weeks, of days where she’d managed to get away from the palace to be with Henry and sometimes Baelfire. Emma found it wonderful to be able to talk to someone about her mixed feelings towards the situation she had been in, someone who tried to understand how happy she was that Henry was bonding with her father but how difficult she found it to spend time with the man who had hurt her, even if they on better terms than they had been before.

And eventually, they fell asleep.

They’d both been woken up by Smee knocking on the door, insisting Killian was needed on deck, and despite a few grumbles, Killian had released her from his embrace and left the warmth of their bed. Emma had taken his pillow, curling up to it and ignoring his chuckle, falling back into a light slumber once he left their cabin.

Even when she woke again, she felt no need to get out of bed. It felt strange, this journey, but Emma loved how she could spend time in what was becoming her home even as they travelled closer and closer to Regina’s palace and her mother’s heart.

She had the time to languish, arching her back and stretching across the bed, a pleased sigh escaping her when she saw the mark Killian had left on her hipbone, when they’d had enough of talking, and he’d taken it upon himself to brand her with drugging kisses. She remembered, in glorious detail, the way she’d let her hands roam all over him, taken him in her hand, stroked him until he shuddered, Emma muffling his hoarse cry with a kiss.

Emma sighed, burrowing deeper, facedown, into the small pile of pillows. She hadn’t thought she could want someone as much as she wanted Killian, each touch searing as if it was setting her aflame, and she wanted to go on deck and steal him away, bring him back to their room so they could finally burn together.

But she wasn’t going to do that, not when they were surrounded by her family and Killian’s crew, and Killian was steering them through the Evil Queen’s waters.

And as if he’d heard her wishes, the door opened, Emma twisting to see who it was, and Killian stood before her, the ajar door allowing the sound of a commotion to enter the room, though she paid it no attention. She smirked coyly at him, turning around fully so she could beckon him over, the sheet pooling at her jips. His eyes widened, and he reached behind him for the door, taking three clumsy attempts to hook the handle before pulling it shut.

“Bloody hell, Emma.” he breathed, his stare travelling from her face, to her breasts, to the bruise on her hip, and then he shook his head. “As much as I hate to say this, you need to get dressed.”

She frowned at him, finally taking him in and seeing the sword dangling from his hand and the frantic look in his eyes. “What is it?”

“Henry, he-” He stopped, watching her clamber across the bed towards him as she began to panic, and then carefully reached out with his hook to hold her in place. “He’s fine, I worded that badly. Henry was up in the crow’s nest with Smee and he saw them.”

“Saw them?” she repeated, taking the sword from Killian and settling it beside her on the bed before getting up to search for her clothes. “Saw who?”

“Regina’s navy.” He pulled a shirt out from the drawers and tossed it to her, Emma pulling it over her head and then trying to return to her hunt for trousers. Killian grabbed her before she could, tugging her towards him for a kiss, as though he was taking the opportunity to do so while they still had the time, Emma curling her fingers into his vest and holding him to her. She kept her grip on him even when the kiss broke, his forehead resting against hers. “They’re coming.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! And thank you to HawkEye733 for betaing!

#  ** Chapter 6 **

“Do you have a plan then?” David asked when Emma and Killian joined him by the ship’s railing. The sword Emma had been given was strapped securely to her waist, the weight of it comforting when she looked out across the sea to the silhouette of the distant naval ship. “Or do you pirates just like to jump onto the other ship and swing your sword around until they surrender?”

Killian chuckled quietly, glancing down at how the King’s hand was resting securely on the pommel of his sword. “Should it come to it, and I believe it will, we will be fighting. I take it you will help us?”

“I will.” David said firmly, and Emma noted how a proud smile spread across his face when he noticed the sword by her side. “And Emma will be fighting too?”

“If Emma wants to, her assistance would be appreciated.” Killian explained, Emma beaming at him. He may have tried to stop her from returning to the palace, days before, but he understood she would detest being forced to hide below deck until they were safe.

“You up for this?” David asked, his own confident grin answering the question for her. Emma rolled her eyes. Her father had taught her to fight, but he was unaware she’d truly fought before, although she doubted a fight with flying monkeys was something he had ever thought she would be part of.  “No matter how much training I’ve given you, I want you to be safe..”

“And she will be.” Killian interjected. “You don’t need to worry about Emma. I’ve seen her fight and she’s brilliant. A force of nature, even.”

David swallowed, fixing Emma with an intent stare and then he nodded. “I have to say it will be nice to see all my teaching in action.” he agreed slowly. “But if you let her get hurt, Hook, you’ll be sorry.”

Killian nodded, and then pointed out to the ship. “The wind is in their favour, so they’ll be upon us before we know it. I think they’ll allow us to get close, to see if we have those ridiculous papers Regina insists on traders carrying. When they do, we board their ship and we stop them from getting on here.”

“And if they don’t get close?” Emma asked, reaching around Killian’s waist to grab his spyglass, bringing it up to her eye so she could get a better look at the approaching frigate. “Do we just sail past?”

“If they don’t come close, we prepare for cannon fire.” Killian stated, pressing a kiss to Emma’s temple before Emma felt him leave her side. He spoke again, his voice louder now as he yelled orders to the crew. “Someone take down the flag! We don’t want them knowing we’re pirates until we’re aboard their ship.”

She watched Killian for a minute, enjoying how he swept around the deck and took control, and then turned back to see her father, an excited grin on his face.

“I’m looking forward to finally doing something.” David stated, flexing the hand holding his sword. “We’ve been planning for so many days, it feels good to be preparing for a fight.”

Emma nodded. Even with planning, this journey had felt easy, relaxing, especially with Killian, and although she needed no reminder that her mother was in danger, the approaching navy brought with it an anticipation that they were finally going to get _something_ done.

But it was the first time she had worried for Henry’s safety aboard the Jolly Roger.

Leaving her father to assist Killian with preparations for battle, Emma hurried around the deck in search of her son, finding him engrossed in a conversation with Mullins about how many men he’d killed before, the fight clearly exciting him.

She pulled him aside, gave an irritated look to the crewmember, and then led him below deck, determinedly ignoring his protests about how he wanted to fight alongside them.

He was only ten. There was absolutely no way Emma was letting him use a real sword without someone watching over him, so he was definitely not going to be allowed to fight Regina’s black knights.

She decided to leave him with Jukes. Although the cook had often insisted he was too old to fight, even without his depth perception problems, she knew that the old sailor would protect Henry should the knights reach him.

So she left her son with a kiss to the forehead and a promise to protect him, clutching him tighter when the boat rocked furiously for a second, and then rushing back to the deck.

“What was that?” she asked, the instant she was back in the sunlight. “What happened?”

Killian looked calm, which relaxed her too, and he just shrugged. “A warning shot from the ship. They weren’t aiming to sink us.” He stated. “They want to check that we have the correct papers. When they get close enough, Mullins, Starkey and I will set up the spring lines to hold the ship to ours. You and your father should follow with the rest of the crew a minute or two later, when we’ve made sure the ship’s secure.”

And then it became a waiting game, watching the ship move steadily closer. The Jolly Roger might have been enchanted, but the wind still had enough control of the ship to slow its approach towards their opponents,

When the frigate was close enough for them to see its figurehead - a carving of the Evil Queen herself - they heard the shouts of the naval crew. “Prepare for boarding! These seas may only be traversed with permission from Her Majesty.”

She saw Killian roll his eyes, and then he gestured for Mullins and Starkey to join him, a grappling hook dangling in his hand. “Go wait with your father, Emma. You’ll know when to join us.”

Before he could go to board the other ship, Emma hurried across the remaining distance between them and pulled his head down for a quick, hard kiss. “Be careful.” she whispered against his lips, feeling his mouth curve into a smile.

“You too.” He murmured. “Now go back to your father. He’s already got his weapon out, and I would rather he use it on Regina’s knights instead of on me.”

And then the ship rocked again as Killian and his crew tethered them to the other ship, closing the gap between them before the navy had the chance to retaliate. When the ship was close enough, Emma watched Killian and Mullins leap across to it, gasping when they were immediately attacked by Regina’s knights, the one’s dressed entirely in black, their faces covered by fabric.

Emma and her father waited, watching the smooth curves and sweeps of Killian’s sword, until the Jolly Roger shook with the impact of colliding with the ship, and then they followed the pirates across.

She hadn’t fought since their final encounter with Zelena, but with the soldiers bearing down on her, it became almost instinctive. She was dodging and weaving, ducking under the arms of the knights in order to reach other men.

Surrounded by too many men, she thrust her elbow back, hearing a crack as she made contact with someone behind her, and she spun round to see one man collapsing to the floor, hands covering his nose. Determined not to be distracted, she swung her sword in an arc, the knights around her either stepping back or getting caught across the chest, then stumbled away from the crowd until her back was against the ship’s railing and she had nowhere else to go to.

She got to breathe for a few seconds, her gaze moving to see Killian still fighting, her father nearby, but then another naval officer stood before her, towering over her. “It’s not often we see a woman at sea.” he leered lewdly, his cutlass pointed towards her. “And we never see one in a fight.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” she said, oblivious to the rest of the battle as he pulled his sword back and prepared to strike.

And then he slashed out, but Emma was trapped, precariously leaning against the rail of the ship. She felt the cold air against her, his sword just missing her as she pulled away, instead cutting through her blouse and across her stomach and she scrambled to hold the wound, wincing and curling up slightly.

But he raised his sword to attack again, and Emma was certain she couldn’t escape this time, not when his arm was caging her against the railing, and if she leant any further back she’d topple into the sea.

Still hunched over, hand on her stomach, she raised her sword, one last barrier to keep him away, and then she heard a thump and the knight fell forward, onto her weapon, onto her, blood falling from his lips.

And then Killian was throwing the man aside and cupping her face, searching her expression. “You’re alright? Did he hurt you?” She glanced down, Killian following her gaze and then he knelt before her, peeling her shirt up to just below her ribs, the red, bleeding line stark against her skin. “It’s only shallow.” he breathed, relief clear on his face. “You’ll be fine. We’ll wash it when we’re back in our quarters.”

He pressed a kiss just below the wound, to her hip, and then he stood back up, as Emma barely registered the calm that had settled across the rest of the deck. “And you?” she breathed. “And Dad? You’re both alright?”

“I’m fine.” Killian promised, and then twisted around to look for her father on the deck. “He looks alright too.”

“What do we do now? Just leave them here until they wake up and sail after us?” she asked, noticing the prone figures of Regina’s knights lying across the desk, the corpse of the one Killian had accidentally killed lying to her side. “We can’t risk that.”

“We pile them in their row boat and tow them after us for a while, then once we’re far enough away, we’ll set them loose and we’ll blow this ship to pieces.” Killian suggested, Emma looking around to see a small harness for a rowing boat. “But we’ll get you back to the ship first and sort you out a bath.”

She protested, but let her father escort her back across to the Jolly Roger, Jukes and Henry venturing up on to the deck to collect the seawater for her bath, heating it in the galley and filling a large metal tub that they squeezed into Killian’s room.

Eventually, she was soaking in the bath, the laceration stinging in the salt water, and she could hear the distant sounds of work as the pirates carried out Killian’s plan, feeling when the Jolly Roger began to move again, hearing the cannon fire.

Finally feeling safe again, she rested her head against the metal of the tub, relieved that there had been no injuries worse than her own. Killian had only obtained a few scrapes, and her father was clear of scratches but was proudly wearing a black eye, one he had obtained when he disarmed one of the knights and got promptly punched in the face.

~~~*~~~

After sailing for a few more hours, Jukes, Henry and Emma had carried a vast amount of food up to the deck, the crew deciding to celebrate their victory over the black knights. Rum had been passed between the men, Killian pouring her father a shot before sharing his flask with her.

Once most of the food was finished, he had taken her hand in his, brushing his thumb occasionally against the curve of her ring. Emma glanced at him, wanting to know what he was thinking, but he simply looked pensive.

He was strangely quiet, but Emma was distracted by giving an account of the fight to Henry. Her son was so excited, waving his arms around as if he was in a sword-fight of his own, the other crew members shouting tips to him, or their own versions of the battle.

But after a while, the crew grew too rowdy and loud, and Emma insisted on taking Henry to bed. Henry protested, wanting to celebrate the fight too, but Emma didn’t want him spending time with the crew when they were being especially crude and violent.

“We could have our own celebration in the galley.” Jukes suggested, gesturing at Emma and her family. “I might even be able to scrounge up some extra sea biscuits for you, maybe cover them in jam?”

Emma agreed, knowing that Henry was really too excited to sleep yet, but unsure if Killian would prefer to stay on deck with his crew or join their more intimate gathering. “You coming, Killian?” she whispered, and he nodded, yelling a goodbye to his crew and raising his flask to them in a toast when they cheered in response.

Down below deck, they sat around the small wooden table, Killian sitting on her right so he could sling his arm around her shoulder and tease the ends of her hair with his hand. Henry was to her left, David beside him, but there was a gap between him and Jukes, as if he’d unconsciously left a space for Snow to sit beside him.

Her mother should be here. It felt strange to be involved in such a celebration when her mother was still under Regina’s control. She sighed, leaning further against Killian, resting her hand on his knee.

Their own gathering was more subdued than the one upstairs, Snow’s missing presence felt by Emma and her family. David was completely silent, staring down at the table, and the quiet was only broken when Henry asked Jukes’ for a story.

Apparently, Jukes had distracted Henry from the battle against Regina’s navy by telling him about the crews’ previous adventures.

“Please?” Henry begged, Jukes’ chuckling slightly. “You tell great stories. Better than mum.”

“Excuse me?” Emma asked, raising her eyebrows when Henry looked sheepish but didn’t reply. Killian nuzzled his head into her hair as if trying to reassure her, although she didn’t really need too much comfort. Jukes and Killian had been alive for so long, and she’d already heard many of their tales, that she knew they were exciting, probably even more so for a ten year old.

“I don’t tell better stories than your mum.” Jukes said, grinning at Emma. “I _know_ great stories, but I do tend to tell them poorly. What do you want a story about, lad?”

Emma turned her head to look at her son, but was distracted when she felt Killian press a kiss just behind her ear. Clearly, the rum was making him more affectionate than he would usually be in front of her father. “You were beautiful today, Swan.” he mumbled, his breath warm against her ear. “Brilliant, even.”

“I want a story about a swan.” Henry said, and Emma realised Killian’s whispers were not as quiet as she had hoped, nudging Killian so he backed away an inch. “Do you know any?”

Jukes grinned. “In fact, I do. An old legend from the kingdom Killian and I hail from. It’s a story about a magical swan and a young man called Peter. Although, why don’t we use another name? You know how we feel about people named Peter on this ship.”

Henry nodded, clearly having been regaled with stories of Neverland and the Lost Boys. “How about Henry? He could be called Henry.”

Emma laughed, reaching out to ruffle her son’s hair, and then turning her attention back to Jukes. “Right, well,” the cook began. “There once was a young man named Henry, who was always made fun of by his two older brothers. One day, he decided to leave his home to make his fortune somewhere else, taking with him everything he owned. On his journey, he met an old man, one with unimaginable power, and Henry made a deal, giving him all of his worldly possessions in exchange for wealth. But the old man didn’t give him gold. Instead he told him to continue his journey, where he would find a large swan tied to a tree. But this wasn’t any normal swan. If someone touched any of it’s feathers, and Henry told the swan to ‘Hold fast’, that person would be stuck to the swan. Only the touch of a small wand would free them. The old man promised that if he gathered a lot of people and lead them to the capital city, he would find a Princess who had never laughed. If anyone made her laugh, they would be given uncountable riches.”

“Did he get the small wand too?” Henry asked, far more invested in the story than Emma was, especially now that Killian was being amorous again, pressing light kisses to her hair and holding her tighter.

“He did, but only after promising the old man that he would allow the man access to any gold he would gain.” Jukes said, chuckling at Henry’s frown. “Henry continued on his way and found the swan that the old man had mentioned, untying it and taking it with him. He walked with it for days until he came to a small village, where a woman wanted to touch the beautiful white feathers of the bird. When she reached out to touch, Henry said ‘Swan, hold fast’, and the woman was stuck to the swan. No matter how much she screamed and protested, he didn’t let her go, and when her husband tried to save her, Henry said the same words and he was caught too. And they continued on their way, Henry catching anyone who tried to help in the procession behind the swan. Eventually, they reached the capital and saw the Princess, who was the most serious and solemn woman Henry had ever seen. But the instant she saw the people trapped and trailing behind the swan, she burst into a loud fit of laughter. When the King heard the news, he gave Henry the reward, mountains of jewels and piles of gold just like the old man had said. Henry freed the people from the procession and used some of his riches to buy a castle of his own. And that is how he made his fortune.”

“Didn’t the old man come back?” Henry asked with a yawn. “To get the gold he wanted?”

“I don’t know.” Jukes told the boy with a shrug. “The legend stops once the Princess laughs. No one knows what happened to Henry after he bought his castle.”

Henry scowled, another yawn escaping him, and that was enough to make Emma disentangle herself from Killian and hustle Henry out of his chair and towards his room. Although he kept protesting, the instant he was tucked under his blanket, his eyes fell closed. “If you were the princess, would Killian be the thing that would make you smile?” he mumbled, Emma leaning forward to press a kiss to her son’s forehead.

“ _You_ would be the thing to make me smile.” she answered, adjusting the blankets around her son’s shoulders and then leaving when he was asleep.

Back in the galley, David seemed to be motivated once again, which was explained by the fact that the conversation had turned to how soon they would be reaching the Evil Queen’s castle.

“Do we need to take a break?” David was asking when Emma returned to the room. “I’d rather we keep on course and get to the palace as soon as we can.”

“We need a break.” Killian insisted, watching as Emma took the seat next to her father and laid her hand on his arm. “We need more supplies. We don’t have enough food to continue to the palace and then return to the port afterwards. We stop tomorrow evening, stay overnight, and then depending on the weather, we should reach the Queen’s docks by the following morning.”

~~~*~~~

The next day had passed without incident, the Jolly Roger arriving at a small port when the sun was beginning to set. Despite worrying about the presence of Regina’s black knights, Killian promised that the small village was unlikely to be under surveillance of the Queen. Apparently, it was a rather unknown dock, especially with the presence of the Evil Queen’s navy, so few ships ever actually stopped there.

The crew disembarked immediately, in search of a tavern or inn in order to spend a night with food, drinks and women.

And when Jukes suggested taking her father and son on a search for fresh supplies, Emma couldn’t deny the shiver of excitement that ran down her spine.

If they left the ship too, maybe she and Killian would finally be completely alone.

So before Killian could move to follow the other boys, Emma grabbed his arm and held him in place. “I thought we could, maybe, stay on board?” she asked, her smile widening when she saw her father grimace and hurriedly lead Henry away. “Just the two of us?”

Killian grinned and swaggered closer, shaking his arm free from her and taking a hold of her hips. “I was about to suggest the same thing.”

“So what are you going to do with me, sailor?” she purred, trailing her hand up his chest and burying it in his hair. “Now that you have me all to yourself.”

Killian swallowed, his hand flexing against her hip. “Actually, my love, I thought we should talk.”

~~~*~~~

_She had spent the day feeling more lonely than she’d felt in years. Although she had promised to leave the castle and spend the day with Henry and his father, her parents had insisted on her attending a meeting of the war council, followed by a discussion on the possibility of a marriage between her and Graham, and despite insisting that she would never marry him, Snow and David seemed to hope that she would still acquiesce to the deal._

_And so Henry had gone, alone, for a walk with Baelfire._

_When the meeting was over, and she was sick of talks of weddings and her new, closer friendship with the huntsman, she had retreated to her room and spent the rest of day moping._

_But then Henry was home and he was sitting next to her on the bed and telling her, full of enthusiasm, about what he’d done with his father, how Baelfire had taken him on a walk through the woods, and then bought a wooden toy from Pinocchio’s shop._

_“And then I got back and I was coming here to see you, but I heard Grandpa and Grandma talking about you and Graham.” he said, his voice quieting. Emma frowned, sending a curious glance at her son. “They said they were happy you were getting closer. That maybe you would marry him after all and they just hoped it would be sooner rather than later.”_

_“They said that?”_

_“But you won’t marry him. Will you?” he asked, lying back on the bed so he was reclining next to his mother. “Because that’s not how true love works.”_

_She smiled sadly at her son. “I don’t plan on marrying him, kid, but sometimes things are more important than true love.”_

_“That’s not true.” Henry insisted. “Can you tell me about Killian again? You never finished telling me what happened in Oz. The last thing you told me was about the magic hat. The one you jumped into.”_

_“I don’t want to talk about that today.” she muttered, hearing Henry exhale in irritation. “Not Oz. It wasn’t the nicest place in the world.”_

_“Okay. Then will you tell me what we’ll do when you and Killian find each other again?” he asked, the wide grin on his face making her wish her parents hadn’t managed to turn Henry into a hopeless romantic, with their stories of true love and always finding one another and giving up anything to be together. “Will he stay here? Will he be your prince?”_

_“I don’t need a prince, Henry.” She told him with a laugh. “In fact, we talked about travelling the realms together, with you. Or, maybe just travelling the seas in this realm. I have to tell you that going to Oz really put me off visiting new realms for a while.”_

_“So we could be pirates?” Henry asked, grinning widely. “Except I don’t know if Grandpa and Grandma would be happy if we went off to live on a pirate ship. I think it would be great though. But it might be hard for Papa to come and see me, if we’re at sea.”_

_“I’d always make sure you could see your father, Henry.” Emma promised. “Even if we travelled the realms, we’d come back here sometimes. I can’t leave Grandma and Grandpa forever and I wouldn’t want to.”_

_“And one day you’ll be Queen.” Henry pointed out, Emma’s nose wrinkling at the thought. She’d determinedly ignored that fact for many years, and she had to admit the role seemed even less appealing now that she had other things she wanted to do. “So you’ll probably have to come back for that. Would you be a pirate queen? Because that sounds like something from a story, which is really great!”_

_“We’ll think about that when it happens.” she told her son. “Right now, you can tell me what you want to do tomorrow and we’ll figure out a way to sneak out of the palace, because I don’t want to attend another war council meeting.”_

_He laughed again, seemingly deep in thought over her question. “I think we should go to the docks for the day.”_

_“The docks?”_

_“We can see if Killian’s found you yet. And if he hasn’t, maybe we could stop by Pinocchio’s and look at more of his wooden ships?” he suggested, clearly noticing the way Emma looked flustered at his idea. “He is going to find you, mum. Because he loves you. And you love him, don’t you?”_

_Really, she was going to have to talk to her parents about telling stories of true love and adventure. Her son was far too interested in her romance with the pirate. But he looked so interested in her answer that she couldn’t stop herself from nodding, pulling her son close for a hug. “I do love him, Henry. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. Other than you, of course. Nothing compares to how much I love you.”_

_“I love you too.” Henry murmured. “And I want you to be happy. I want you to have a story like Grandma and Grandpa. So I’m going to keep believing he’s coming back, even if you don’t, and we’re going to go down to the docks whenever we can, just in case. And if he’s not there, we can look at the ships.”_

~~~*~~~

Killian had led her back to their room, and the instant the door was closed, she plastered herself to him, her hands crawling up his chest to grip his shoulders, quick, teasing kisses pressed to his jaw. “What did you want to talk about?” she breathed between kisses, feeling the rumble of his chest as he chuckled. “I was hoping that we’d take advantage of having the ship all to ourselves.”

“Oh, we will.” he murmured, tilting his head down so that when Emma aimed another kiss to his jaw, she met his lips instead, his arms wrapping around her waist. “But I had something I wanted to ask you.”

Emma quirked an eyebrow, letting him lead her over to the bed and sitting on the edge, expecting him to take a place beside her. Instead, he knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his. “Swan, I’ve been thinking,” he began, and Emma couldn’t look away from him, his blue gaze locked on her. “I know what your ring means to you. Maybe it’s selfish of me, to be bothered by something that means so much to you, and I don’t want you to stop wearing it, but I thought that maybe if you wore it on a chain, you could wear one of my rings on your finger.”

“One of your rings?” she repeated hoarsely, unable to figure out what was happening, what he was saying.

So she just nodded, watching as Killian stood and went to rummage through his drawer - where she knew he stashed a small amount of treasure from previous adventures - pulling out a gold chain, and bringing it back to her. She stared at her hand as he slowly slid her peridot ring off her finger and onto the chain, fastening the clip before lifting it gently over her head, the ring falling just between her breasts. He gazed up at her raptly, and then with a soft, tender smile, he took the heavy red ring from his index finger and slipped onto hers, the band loose on her finger.

“It doesn’t fit.” he murmured, as if it was something he hadn’t expected, but Emma laced her fingers through his before he could take the ring off.

“That doesn’t matter. We can put some fabric under it, or get it resized when we’re back home.” she suggested, lifting their joined hands up so she could look at the ring, and then she couldn’t stop looking from Killian, kneeling in front of her, to his ring on her ring finger. “Killian, are you-?”

“What?” He asked, and then followed her pointed gaze down to the ring and his eyes widened suddenly. “No! You told me how you feel about marriage, and I’m not going to ask you that if it’s not something you want. I promised you that you didn’t have to worry about any sort of proposal.” His words were hurried, nervous. “Think of it as just another promise that you will always have someone who loves you, just like your other ring. I know I can promise you that. And you’re right, Swan, we’re happy, we don’t need to get married. I know I’ll always be with you, so it’s not necessary.”

She glanced down, heart racing. He was right, they didn’t need to be married. But he wanted it. She hadn’t realised before, had been too focused on herself to realise his joking comment when she first broached the topic had been his attempt to hide his actual thoughts.

And she knew marrying Killian would be different to marrying Graham. She really did love him, she wouldn’t be standing in front of her family and friends and lying to them, she’d just be letting everyone know that they were together and in love, and that she had chosen him to be at her side, whether she was ruling the kingdom or sailing the seas.

And she wanted that.

“Killian?” she whispered, placing her palm on his cheek and holding his gaze. “If you want it, you can ask me. I’ll say yes.”

He swallowed, his hand tightening around hers. “Emma?” he breathed, searching her gaze for a few moments. Then his eyes widened, his tongue darting out nervously. “Marry me?”

She beamed at him, her smile shaky. “Yes. I’ll marry you. Someday.”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to marry me right now.” He said with a hoarse chuckle, running a finger across the ring. “But someday sounds marvellous.”

She watched him, gazing at him as he looked down at the ring, her thumb stroking his cheek. They were silent, Emma certain that both of them were still processing what had happened.

“But, Emma, you said before that you never wanted to get married?” he said eventually, raising his head to stare at her, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What I thought marriage was… I just know that with you, it would be different.” she explained, “I didn’t think about what I was saying before, about  how things had changed since I met you.”

“If I’d known,” Killian murmured. “I’d have been more eloquent. I would have said more about how much I love you and how meeting you changed my life. I’d have given you a ring that fitted. A prettier ring.”

“It was perfect and I like this ring.” she said with a laugh, snatching her hand back in case he tried to take the ring back. “I don’t want a different one.”

He reached for her hand, raising it to his lips for a lingering kiss. “One day, sweetheart, we’re going to wake up and decide to get married.” He told her and she nodded at him, beaming down at him. “And we’ll take Henry, and Dave, and Jukes, and your mother, and we’ll just do it. After all, we said no more planning, right?”

And maybe that wasn’t the big wedding her mother had planned for her, one with dignitaries and people she didn’t know and a ball, but it sounded absolutely perfect.

And she wanted it more than anything.

She wanted _him_ more than anything.

“Killian?” she hummed, pulling her hand from his so she could cup his face insistently. “We just got engaged. _Please_ kiss me.”

His gaze darkened, his whole expression hungry, and then he surged upwards to capture her lips with his, gripping at her waist and hauling her close, She pressed closer, her tongue running across the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth to her, kissed her fiercely.

And then she pulled away, disentangling herself from him so she could crawl back to the head of bed, twisting back to face him with a coy smile. which only widened when she saw the want in his eyes.

“Are you going to join me, sailor?” she asked, curling her index finger and gesturing him over.

He nodded, and Emma burst into a laugh when he clambered over to her, clumsy in his eagerness, the laughter stopping when he kissed her, his hand tangling in her hair, breaking away from her to press open-mouthed kisses down her neck, Emma trying to kiss him back whenever she could.

And then he looked up at her, bending his head to undo the strings of her shirt with his teeth, Emma’s breath growing shallow, but then she was tugging at his shirt, the two of them breaking apart only so they could rid each other of their clothes. Then he pounced, Emma laughing again when his fingers brushed the back of her knee, when he kissed the inside of her thigh.

She was overwhelmed by her senses , the two of them kissing clumsily, brushing her own fingers against his side until he was laughing too, and then he was pressing down against her and she could feel _all_ of him, too much, not enough, his fingers skimming her body, mouth hot on her breast, Emma clawing at his back and tugging at his hair until he raised his head and stared at her.

“I love you.” She whispered. “I’m in love with you. I can’t remember what it was like not loving you.”  

Killian smiled, reached for her hand and brushed his thumb across her ring finger, tangling their fingers together. And then he murmured the same words back, spoke them into her skin as he nuzzled his head into the curve of her neck.

It was too much, Emma writhing underneath him until he glanced back up at her and she could kiss him, mouths meeting furiously. And then he was sliding into her, Emma arching into him, her hands scrambling to find somewhere to hold onto him, hold him to her, until they fell apart, his weight heavy on her as he pressed slow, lazy kisses to her cheek, her shoulder, her lips.

And then he rolled off her and tugged her to his side, arm around her waist, and sighed. “If your father wasn’t already going to kill me, he definitely will now.”

“You’re seriously thinking of my father right now?” she asked, still breathless, easily fitting her body against his. “Now?”

Killian chuckled, pressing one more kiss to her temple. “I can’t help worrying for my life, sweetheart. Not when I’ve got so much to live for.”

And Emma remembered the way he had been so ready to die when they met, how everything had changed for _both_ of them, and she _needed_ to kiss him again, _have_ him again, so she straddled him, settled over his hips, bent down to press her lips to his. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to distract you.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! I hope you enjoy the chapter. Thanks to Hawkeye733 for betaing!

****

#  **Chapter 7**

When Emma woke, she refused to open her eyes. The night before had been so incredible, she couldn’t believe it wasn’t a dream. Killian had proposed, and then they hadn’t just crossed the line they’d been toeing, they’d obliterated it completely, rousing each other throughout the night with hot kisses and making love with only the moonlight illuminating the room.

It _couldn’t_ have been real, how Killian had woken her with kisses down her spine, rolled her over when she woke and buried his head between her legs until she was moaning and writhing and had to pull him up to kiss him and _have_ him again, how she’d returned the favour at first light, woken him with open-mouthed kisses to his jaw and neck, kissed down his body until his hand was fisted in her hair and he was incoherent.

And it had to be a dream, except she felt sated and aching and _loved,_ and his naked body was warm next to hers, and his, now her, ring was heavy on her finger.

So she opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness in the room, the sun high in the sky, and it had to be late morning, far later than either of them would usually wake. He should have been on deck, should be steering them out of port, but instead he was gazing at her. “Good morning.” she said, and he reached out to run his finger along her cheek, and she felt more playful than she’d ever felt in years, leaning across to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

Killian beamed at her, but then he glanced out the small window and groaned. “I have to get out of bed.” He admitted. “We should have left port hours ago.”

“Can’t someone else man the helm?” Emma asked, rolling over so that half of her was resting on him, her chest pressed against his, hands on his shoulders. “So that we can stay here? Just bask in _this_?”

“I wish we could.” Killian sighed, moving Emma off him, twisting to kiss her and then reaching for her hand to kiss that too, his lips brushing just below the ring. “But not today. Besides, sweetheart, we’re going to have forever to wake next to one another. I’m sure we’ll find at least one day where we can stay in bed.” He brushed the sheet aside and sat up, running a hand through his hair.

Emma was too focused on the word forever. She’d never had that possibility before, not one that felt so serious. As much as she had believed herself in love with Baelfire, they were both young and immature and _forever_ seemed too long.

Emma entertained the thought that maybe, with Killian, forever was too short.

For a minute, she thought that it was ridiculous, having a thought like that, but surely she could think about forever when it was to be spent with the man she loved, the man she was going to marry.

He was still sitting on the edge of the bed, using his one hand to fasten his belt, and Emma crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, one hand on his stopping him from assembling his clothing, her bare chest pressed against his back. “You should still stay here today.” she murmured, catching his earlobe between her teeth and grinning when his breath hitched and he leant back slightly, leant into her. “You have a crew, they can do it.”

“I promised Henry he could help me steer the boat out of the docks.” Killian told her, and Emma’s smile softened. “I imagine he’s still waiting for me to surface. I don’t want to let him down.”

She beamed at him, sliding one hand up his chest to take hold of his chin and turn his head so she could kiss him. “You won’t let him down. You’re going to go up there and teach him the difference between port and starboard and you’re both going to have fun.”

Killian nodded, prized her arms away from him and finally stood from the bed, pulling on his shirt and vest and then leaving their cabin with a soft goodbye.

Emma refused to get out of bed yet, feeling pleasantly exhausted after the night shared with Killian, falling back on to the mattress and wrapping the sheet around herself.

She had never had this before. With Baelfire, their romance had been quick and exciting, stealing away together in shadows and locked rooms, sharing only light kisses until the day she said she loved him, the day he had taken her to bed and left her to wake up alone the morning after.

Things had been slower with Killian, but somehow even more thrilling, knowing everything about one another before they even admitted their feelings, travelling together and spending hours with one another, They had shared more than just kisses, had shared a bed and a room and their _lives_ , had known they loved one another for weeks before they finally slept together.

And she had woken up with him beside her, something she hadn’t even thought about when she was in his arms and he was making love to her. But when she opened her eyes and he was there and next to her, it was as if the last lingering fear she had about them, one she hadn’t even realised she had, was gone. Because he had really been there, and he had still been holding her. She had needed that.

Before Killian, all she had ever had was a one-time thing, but he was giving her forever.

~~~*~~~

Emma had dozed for an hour, but the sun was too bright for her to sleep deeply. So after a quick wash, she ventured up on to the deck. Although they had been travelling north, it was surprisingly warm, a cooler breeze only occasionally crossing the deck.

Knowing Killian would be at the helm, she hurried up the stairs to see him. The sight at the ship’s wheel made her stop, a warm smile across her face. Henry was still with Killian, and

Killian was looking down at Henry with one of the softest looks she had ever seen him wear.

Henry laughed as Killian ruffled his hair and joked with him, her son’s hand gripping the spokes of the wheel tightly.

When she drew even closer, she realised they were talking about Baelfire, Killian regaling her son with stories of his father’s time aboard the Jolly Roger. Beaming, she joined them at the wheel, Killian pausing in his tale for only a second when he saw her. She slid her arm around his waist, Killian’s hand leaving Henry’s hair to rest on her shoulder.

“Afternoon, Mom.” Henry chirped when Killian finished his story, Emma biting her lip when she realised how late in the day it actually was. “Killian said you were tired so you needed to sleep in.”

“That’s right.” she answered, turning to send Killian a grateful smile. “I slept for hours.”

“Well, you need sleep because Grandpa says we’ll be at the palace tomorrow morning.” Henry said matter-of-factly. “Is that true? Are you going to save Grandma tomorrow?”

“We’re going to try.” Emma answered, surprised when she heard her father’s murmur of agreement. She had been so focused on Killian and her son that she hadn’t seen her dad make his way up the stairs to join them.

“Emma.” David said, staring at Killian’s arm around her. “I heard Hook telling Henry that you were exhausted. So, I wanted a word with him.”

“Why would you want a word with him when it was Mom that was sleeping?” Henry asked, and David choked, sending a panicked look to Emma. She just raised her eyebrows at her father. If he wanted to talk with Killian now, it was up to him to figure out an explanation for Henry.

“Actually, Henry, I want to speak to Hook because,” David began, now sending his look of alarm towards Killian.

“Because he wants to revise the plan for tomorrow, lad.” Killian said slowly, David nodding slowly. “Nothing to do with your mother. Unfortunately, this means our sailing lesson will have to be over for today. How about heading down to Jukes?”

Henry looked between David and Killian and then let go of the helm, his hand still hovering over the spoke. “You’ll teach me again on the way home, Killian?”

“Of course I will.” Killian said, Henry only stepping away from the helm when he heard the pirate’s answer. “I might even start teaching you how to navigate, seeing as you’re getting so good at this.”

Henry beamed up at Killian and then darted down the stairs, leaving Emma and Killian with David.

“If it’s alright, Emma, I’d prefer to talk to Hook alone.” David suggested, but Emma shook her head, stepping closer to Killian, leaning against his side. “Or we can all just have a chat? Because I didn’t see either of you last night and it looked like you were in your room. The one that you share. All night.”

“Dad?” Emma said warningly, unable to hide a laugh at the fear on Killian’s face. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m pretty sure you don’t want your suspicions about what we did last night to be confirmed.”

“Confirmed?” David squeaked, looking uncomfortable for a few minutes before he shook his head and tried to look more at ease. “Look, I really hate to even bring this up, because I never wanted to have this talk with you. It’s just that I remember what it was like to be your age,” Killian sniggered slightly, Emma reaching out to elbow him gently in the side. She didn’t think it was necessary to reveal Killian’s rather extended lifespan, especially as the conversation was already unpleasant. “and in love. As a concerned father, I’d just be happy knowing nothing untoward occurred.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Emma said, resting her hand on her father’s arm to pull his attention from Killian. “But seeing as we’re getting married, I don’t think you have any reasons to complain.”

David blinked and then his eyes widened when he looked down at her hand. “The two of you are going to get married? Since when?”

Although Killian seemed to be expecting David to turn on him and ask him why he hadn’t asked for her hand, Emma knew that her father was aware that she would do what she wanted, with or without David’s permission. Her father was more concerned with the fact that he hadn’t been told.

“Since last night.”  Emma answered quickly, wanting to reassure him that she hadn’t been hiding anything. “Only last night. I wouldn’t have kept this from you.”

“Last night?” David repeated, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head when he seemed to remember exactly what he had been questioning them about before. “So, I suppose last night was a bit of a celebration then. Which is fine. Because you’re in love. And it’s fine. But I don’t want to know about it, so don’t tell me anymore.”

“You asked the questions first, Your Majesty.” Killian pointed out sheepishly, seemingly relieved by David’s blustering.

Emma watched as her father composed himself, swallowed and then reached out to pat Killian’s shoulder. “David’s allowed. You’re going to be family, after all. One day, you’re going to be known throughout the land as Prince Killian.”

Emma glanced over at Killian, frowning at her dad when she saw the shocked, terrified expression on the pirate’s face. As certain as they were that they were going to be together, the fact he would be marrying royalty was a topic they hadn’t had time to broach. “And that’s enough, Dad.”

David nodded awkwardly. “Sure. Can we talk sometime, Emma? Whenever you’re free.” he said haltingly, and then sent Killian another nod and smile but something dark crossed his face and he anxiously reached for the ring around his own finger. Emma knew what he was thinking, that her mother should have been there to share in the moment. “Congratulations, by the way. I’m glad you found each other.”

“Thank you,” Killian said quietly, clearly still thrown by what her father had mentioned, and Emma felt his fingers brush against hers as if seeking comfort from him, and she felt him relax when she took his hand tightly in hers. Just before her father reached the bottom of the stairs, Killian spoke again. “David.”

Her father halted and then turned to Killian and grimaced. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

The King walked away before Emma or Killian could speak, a surprising air of despondency surrounding him, and Emma was about to disentangle herself from Killian and see what had disheartened her father so suddenly but then Killian spoke, his voice a quiet murmur. “I don’t think it will take as long to get used to as Prince Killian.”

She turned to face him, his eyebrows furrowed, looking overwhelmed. “Did you forget I was a princess?” she asked, moving to stand in front of him and reaching to caress his cheek, brushing her hand down his face to rest on his neck. “I have to admit I’ve found myself forgetting that I have a home other than this ship.”

“I never forgot.” Killian stated. “But I never considered what it meant for us. All I wanted was to be with you. But Prince? That’s not exactly a suitable title for a man like me. I can already imagine the gossip when your kingdom finds out that their princess has deigned to marry me.”

Emma shook her head, moved her hand an inch to grip the leather of his collar and pull him down for a soft, reassuring kiss, just lightly brushing her lips to his. “Stop being ridiculous.” she breathed, swaying into him when he rested his forehead to hers. “I could call you my prince from time to time? Try and get you used to it?”

“Or you could keep calling me sailor?” He suggested, pressing a kiss to her neck before pulling back and grinning suggestively at her, and Emma knew they were both remembering how she’d called him sailor as she asked him to join her in the bed. “I like it when you call me that.”

~~~*~~~

Emma couldn’t spend the day with Killian and her son when her father had walked off with such despondency. She’d gone looking for him, not surprised when she found him sat on the small bed in the crew’s quarters, his head buried in his hands.

“Daddy?” she asked quietly, staying in the doorway, frowning when he looked up and she saw the redness in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

David nodded stiffly, but when Emma refused to leave, he eventually shook his head. “I didn’t want to burden you, Emma, but no. I’m not alright.”

“What’s upset you?” Emma asked, crossing over to sit beside her father, leaning her head on his shoulder when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I know Mom’s still missing, but we’re almost at the Evil Queen’s palace. For the last week, you’ve been so determined. What’s changed?”

David swallowed, his hand rising to rest on her head and hold her closer. “You’ve changed, Emma.” he admitted in a whisper. “Hook makes you happier than I’ve ever seen you, and that’s when all of this is happening, with your mother-”

“I think about Mom every day. I’ve not forgotten.” Emma interrupted.

“I didn’t think you had.” David insisted. “I love that you can still find happiness. I just know your mother would have loved to see you like this. I’m so happy for you, Emma, that you’ve found him and that he makes you smile. But when you told me that you were engaged, all I could think about was what if your mother isn’t there to see you with him.”

Emma swallowed and glanced down. As involved as she had been with the planning, she had determinedly ignoring any negative thoughts about what was happening with her mother, had absorbed herself in trying to live the life she had wanted with Killian. If she ignored it, she could be strong for Henry and for her father.

But she wanted her mother to meet Killian and to see how happy he made her and to be there when she married him and hearing it said out loud that it might not happen, that they might not save her, was too much. She turned into her father’s shoulders, closing her eyes and wishing that she wouldn’t cry, but she couldn’t stop the tears.

“I haven’t seen you cry in years.” Her father said quietly, and she felt him lay a kiss on the top of her head. “But with everything that’s happened, it’s alright to cry. You’ve been through so much. First with Henry and now this and you can’t keep it all bottled inside you. Have you spoken to Hook? He’d want to listen.”

“I didn’t need to talk about it.” she murmured. “With Killian, I just know everything’s going to be okay.”

David nodded, and she spent a few minutes in the comfortable embrace of her father until she had no more tears left. When she felt her father take a deep breath, she pulled away and twisted to look at him. “So marrying Hook? This is what you want? It’s not too fast for you?”

“Dad, you only met Mom once before deciding it was true love. And then after, what, three or four meetings, you woke her from the sleeping curse and proposed. I don’t think you can ever talk to anyone about a relationship going too fast.” Emma pointed out, and after a moments silence, her father actually chuckled. “As for if I want it… I didn’t think I wanted to get married, but then I thought he was proposing and I didn’t want anything more. Besides, we have no plans to marry anytime soon.”

“When we get your mother back home, that may be changing.” David told her with a raised eyebrow. “She was bad enough planning your first two weddings, so a wedding to the man you truly love is going to need to be an event.”

“I don’t know.” Emma sighed. “I don’t think we even want to get married anytime soon, just the fact that we will is enough for now. Especially since he’s just realised he’ll become a prince. He’s not ready for that and he needs to be before any wedding happens.”

David took another deep breath. “I could talk to him.” he suggested reluctantly. “I wasn’t always a prince either, Emma. One day, the Dark One showed up at my farm and took me to King George, you know this. I went from a shepherd to a prince in a day. But I never really felt like one. And then I proposed to your mother, and it wasn’t going to be a lie anymore. I was really going to be a prince. That felt ridiculous. It wasn’t easy to get used to. For years, I still felt like it was a title I didn’t deserve, but I’d have worn any title to be with your mother. It might be good for him to hear that.”

“You’d do that?” Emma breathed, her father kissing the top of her head again in answer.

“I suppose I should get to know him more anyway.” David said, sounding resigned. “He is going to be my son-in-law, after all.”

~~~*~~~

Emma had spent an hour with her father, him telling her the stories of how he met Snow, the way he had when she was a little girl. It was as much a comfort to her as it was to her father, hearing the familiar tales out loud again.

He hadn’t told her them in years, because after Baelfire, she hadn’t wanted to hear of true love and finding each other no matter what, but she’d always heard them. She’d heard them muttered to Henry as bedtime stories, but it was nice to hear them told to her once again?

And then her father had finished, and she’d seen the ring on her finger, and she knew it was time to find Henry and let him know.

She had expected Henry to be back on deck with Killian, but the two of them were in the Captain’s cabin,  playing with his ships the way Henry had used to do with his Grandpa. She had to pause in the door and watch them, because this was something Henry had only ever played with family, her and her father and now Baelfire, but he was letting Killian in too.

“Having fun?” she asked when Henry pretended he’d sent cannon fire towards Killian’s ship, the pirate sighing and toppling his ship over when Henry announced the shots had hit his ship. “Any chance I might be allowed to join in?”

“I only have two ships.” Henry said, looking up at and beaming at her when he saw her. “Sorry, Mom.”

Killian chuckled and then gestured for Emma to join them. “Well, sweetheart, I’d be more than happy to take you on as my first mate.” he teased, kissing her temple when she sat beside him. “If you’re prepared to take orders from the Captain, that is.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, seeing how he was reaching out to adjust the toy ship and moving quickly so that she did it first, grinning when she heard Henry laugh. “I don’t know about that.” she stated.

“I wish it could be like this all the time.” Henry murmured, and she looked over at him, noticing how he looked shy. “But when Grandma’s back and we go to the palace, things are going to be different again, aren’t they?”

Emma and Killian shared a glance, and then Emma reached forward to take her son’s small hand in hers. “I can’t say things won’t change when Grandma’s back, Henry. Maybe we’ll go back to the palace, maybe we’ll stay on the ship, I don’t know, but I can promise you that Killian isn’t going anywhere.”

“That’s right, lad.” Killian interjected, and Henry smiled at him.

“Because he’s family? Even if you said before that he wasn’t?” Henry asked, and Emma grimaced, feeling Killian’s hurt look instead of actually seeing it.

“I was upset, Henry. I didn’t mean it.” Emma laid her free hand on Killian’s knee, wanting him to know that it was really wasn’t true. “In fact, that’s something I need to talk to you about. I know I should have talked to you about this before, but it happened just yesterday and it wasn’t planned, but would you be alright if Killian and I got married someday?”

Henry gaped at the two of them, looking from her to Killian as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Yes! Of course I’m alright.” He turned to Killian, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “I kept telling her she needed to wait for you. I even said that you should be the only person she should marry.”

Killian swallowed, and when Emma gazed at him, he looked touched. “Thank you, Henry.”

“This is brilliant!” Henry continued, sounding so excited that Emma couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him. “You can play this with me all the time until I have a brother or sister and I can play with them and win because they’ll be too small to understand what’s happening!”

“A brother or sister?” Emma stammered, noticing that Killian looked taken aback too. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself there, Henry.”

“Maybe.”

She swallowed, releasing her son’s hand and tangling her own hands together, lying them in her lap to stop herself from fidgeting. Last night, she hadn’t thought about anything other than Killian, but she _knew_ it only took one time to end up with child.

She didn’t want another child. Not yet.

“You are.” Killian corrected, his arm wrapping around her shoulder. “That kind of thing is too far ahead to be thinking about right now.” She felt herself relax, twisting to give Killian a grateful kiss. Henry groaned, the sound a mixture of bemusement and disgust, and Killian pulled back. “One day, Henry, you won’t find this as horrible.”

Henry looked doubtful. “Maybe.”

There was a knock on the door before either of them could speak anymore, and they all looked up to see David in the doorway. “I wanted to speak to Hook?” he asked, Emma nodding enthusiastically at the pirate. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Sure.” Killian agreed, standing from the table, but before he could cross the room, Henry stood up and hugged him. Killian looked astonished, his arms hovering awkwardly in the air for a few seconds until he bent to return the hug. “We’ll finish our battle later, lad.”

Henry let go and Killian left with her father. “You really like him?” Emma asked, wondering if maybe Henry had been more excited than he actually felt because of Killian’s presence in the room. “You’re happy with this? You know he’s not replacing your father, right? That we’ll still spend time with Baelfire?”

“I know. I told you that you have to marry your true love, like Grandpa and Grandma did.” She looked at him carefully, raised an eyebrow until he looked down nervously, the same way she did when she didn’t want to say something. “And I know he’s not replacing Papa, but it’s nice to have more family who hasn’t forgotten me.”

~~~*~~~

When the sun had finally set, Henry was sent to bed, David retreating to the crew’s cabin soon after, stating that he needed a good night’s rest before they stormed the palace the following day. Emma had had a similar thought, but Killian had brought a bottle of wine up to their room and instead of sleeping they were curled up together on the bed, each of them holding a glass of wine and talking about their plans for the next day.

But Emma didn’t want to talk about that, not when this was their last night together before they face the Evil Queen herself.

She wanted to talk about _anything_ else.

“When did you know you loved me?” she asked quietly, and maybe it was the wine that had made the question come to mind. “Because, for me, I always knew I cared for you, but I think I denied how strong the feelings were until you told me your plan to kill Rumplestiltskin, and then kill yourself. Even then, I didn’t realise it was love. And then you were imprisoned by Zelena and you lost your heart, and after I got it back, you told me you loved me, and I just _knew_ and I didn’t know how I hadn’t known before.”

He smiled at her, bent to kiss her and he tasted like wine. “It was love at first sight for me.” he said, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a lie.” Emma said, but she set her wine glass down beside the bed and cuddled closer to him, curling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

“Maybe. But I always liked you.” He said with a shrug. “You remember that night, the one where you told me that together we could have everything? My revenge had been holding me back from fully realising what I felt for you, but that night I fell. I knew everything had changed, that I’d changed. That witch in Sherwood, the one that separated us, she let me go because she knew I wouldn’t harm Rumplestiltskin if it meant losing you. When she told me, I knew she was right and that I was in love with you.”

She kissed him this time, a slower kiss than before, and felt him pull her closer. “And when did you decide you wanted to marry me?” she asked, her tone more playful, releasing her hold on his shirt to place her hand against his cheek, Killian turning his head to kiss her palm.

“There were times in Oz when I thought about being with you every day, but I didn’t even think about marriage until we found each other again. When I heard you could have married another man, I realised that I wanted that with you. Even though until then, I had given up on even thinking marriage was a possibility for me.”

“What about Milah?”

“I considered it.” Killian admitted after a few moments of silence, his head falling back against the wall. “I loved her. But she was already married, and she would never have wanted to be married again. Marriage wouldn’t have been possible with her, and I didn’t mind that as long as she was still with me.”

“But you wanted to marry her?”

“I remember when I was young. Once, I was an idealistic lieutenant who dreamt of rescuing a damsel in a distress and sweeping her off her feet. So there was a part of me that wanted to get that happy ending.” he said slowly, kissing her palm again. “I have to admit, I think I prefer this.”

“I don’t know. It may have taken you a few centuries, but surely marrying a princess and becoming a prince is a pretty perfect ending to a story like that.” She murmured, feeling him tense again when she said the word ‘prince’.

“Except for the intervening years, perhaps?” Killian said, but he was smiling down at her. “But I’m not going to marry a princess, Emma. I’m going to marry _you_.”

“Look, we can sit and plan about how to make everything okay, so being a prince isn’t so daunting anymore.” she said earnestly, wondering if the talk with her dad had been helpful or just awkward. “Because everything might suddenly change otherwise and-”

“I thought we didn’t plan, Emma.” Killian interrupted, hauling her closer for a kiss. “Whatever happens will happen, and we can deal with anything. It’s just going to be a bit different. Besides, as much as I am worried about the prince moniker, I saw your face when Henry mentioned siblings. In Oz, you asked me if I would want a son? I thought, perhaps, you had asked me that because you thought that one day, we would have a child. Has that changed? Has something changed your mind?”

She heard the unspoken _someone_ in his question, and she knew they had to talk about it. He couldn’t think that her reaction to Henry’s question had anything to do with him. “No. I think, one day, I might like another child and I’d want it to be with you, if that was what you wanted. But not now. Not yet.” She said, relieved when she saw understanding in his eyes. “I don’t regret last night at all, but we weren’t careful, Killian. And it’s just, I don’t know, I don’t want to be pregnant any time soon. I’m so grateful for Henry, but I don’t want that again. I don’t want one night together and then I’m with child. I want to experience _us_ , to have time together. Because I’ve never had this before and I’m not ready for it to change like that.”

“But someday?” Killian asked, a soft expression on his face as he gazed at her, and she felt the back of his hand brush against her stomach, just briefly, before he settled his hand around her waist. “We seem to have a few somedays to look forward to.”

“I guess.” she murmured. “I just don’t want _that_ someday to be anytime soon.”

He nodded, accepting her words with an earnest smile. “Of course. Now, should we sleep? Before our adventure through the palace tomorrow? I doubt we should deal with Regina and possibly Rumplestiltskin while we’re exhausted.”

“Can we have tonight first?” she asked, sliding her hand down his chest and shifting so she was straddling him. “Just in case things go wrong, I’d like to have this.” Killian made to speak, and she knew he was going to reassure her that everything would be fine, but she didn’t want to hear that, so she pressed herself against him, kissed him until his left arm was around his waist, his free hand in her hair. “Let’s just be more careful this time.”

“As you wish.”   

****


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! I only have one thing to say about this chapter and that's 'trust me because it isn't as bad as it appears'.
> 
> Enjoy! Thanks to HawkEye733 for betaing!

When Emma woke in the morning, she was reluctant to get out of bed, to leave the warmth and safety of Killian’s embrace in order to go to the Evil Queen’s palace. So she didn’t move, wrapped herself closer to him and rested her head on his chest, smiling when she felt him start to run his hand through her hair, carefully detangling every knot that got in his way.

As optimistic as she could be with Killian beside her, she couldn’t get rid of the nagging thought that if things went wrong, this could be their last morning together.

“Morning.” he murmured eventually, even though Emma knew he had been awake as long as she had. “Are you ready?”

She didn’t answer, just turned her head slightly to kiss his chest, his hand pausing and just holding her head to him.

She was as ready as she could be. As much as they had prepared, and planned, they were working from thirty year old drawings and David’s knowledge of the palace itself, things he only knew from stories told to him by Snow White.

And Killian may have snuck into the palace before, but they had no guarantee that the same plan would work this time.

But it was all they had.

“I can’t help worrying about all of this.” Emma whispered, and he shifted to tilt her head up so he could bend to kiss her, his lips sliding across hers.

And then it was fast and desperate and _everything_ , and Emma knew what they were both refusing to say, that maybe they hadn’t prepared enough, that he was as aware as her that they could lose everything before the day was done.

They didn’t have time to lie together afterwards, dressing each other, Killian wrapping Emma up in the swan-feather cloak, and then heading onto the deck. They joined Henry and her father at the railing, looking across the small bay to the metallic structure that was Regina’s palace, Emma's nerves growing as they drew closer to the dock.

It would only be Emma, Killian and David sneaking into the palace, as the entire crew would not be particularly stealthy, and as worried as she had been that she could lose Killian, nothing terrified her more than the idea that things would go terribly wrong and Henry would be all alone.

So as the ship crossed the last few miles, Emma left her son with his grandfather and retreated downstairs to the galley. “Jukes?” she asked, the older man turning to face her when he heard her voice. “Can I ask you something? It’s important.”

The cook placed a lid on whatever it was he was making and gestured towards the small table. She sat down and waited for Jukes to join her, tapping her fingers anxiously against the wood. “What is it, Swan?”

“Jukes, if we don’t come back,” she said anxiously, watching Jukes’ brow furrow at her words. “Contact Rumplestiltskin and tell him that Henry needs Baelfire. Please.”

“Rumplestiltskin?” Jukes repeated, apparently confused. “I thought you wanted to take Henry away from him, that’s why you were here before. But you want me to send him back?”

“It’s complicated. But the Dark One will make sure that Henry is with his father.” Emma explained briefly. “But today, will you-?”

“I’ll make sure your son is safe until you are back with him.” Jukes promised, reaching out to pat her hand. “And, like I’ve always said, I know Killian will make sure you are back at Henry’s side. I won’t need to contact the Crocodile. But, if it’s what you need to hear,  I promise I will.”

“Thank you.” she whispered, just as she felt the ship shake, the Jolly Roger having arrived at the dock. And then she nodded goodbye to him, and returned back above deck, back to her family.

Killian was supervising his crew as they secured the ship’s position, and Henry seemed to be watching eagerly as they worked, trying to learn what to do, but Emma tugged her son away, pulled him into her arms. “Henry?” she murmured, smiling when she felt him hug her back. “Be good while I’m gone, alright? I love you.”

“Love you too.” Henry replied, his voice muffled in her shoulder.

She finally released him when she felt Killian tap her shoulder, a signal that it was time for them to leave. “Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart, but it’s a couple of hours walk up to the palace so we really should leave now.”

Emma nodded, adjusting the sword hanging from her belt and stepping onto the ramp leading off the ship, stopping when she saw her son hug Killian too, the pirate looking touched by her son’s gesture. “I told Mullins you’d help steer the ship out of the bay.” Killian said, stepping out of her son’s hold to ruffle his hair. “And that has to happen so this ship isn’t tied to docks, so that Regina can’t find it and destroy it. You’re the only one I’d trust with something so important.”

And maybe Killian hadn’t said anything like a goodbye, but it seemed to be enough of a farewell for Henry, who darted forward for one more hug before Killian followed Emma off the ship.

“Does Grandpa get a hug too?” Emma turned around once more when she heard David’s voice, and even with all her nervous thoughts, she couldn’t quell a smile when her son was wrapped up into a hug by his grandfather, something she had worried she would never see again. It seemed that even without memories of the boys’ childhood, her father had fully accepted Henry again.

And she hoped they got the chance to make new memories together.

But right now, she couldn’t worry about that. She couldn’t dwell on everything that could go wrong when what they were about to do was _so_ important.

And so, she took Killian’s hand and they began the trek to the palace, David trailing behind them, and when she turned around, ten minutes later, she saw the Jolly Roger sailing away to safety.

 

~~~*~~~

_After a gruelling few hours of sword-fighting with her father, Emma had retreated into the palace courtyard and sat on the ground, resting against the marble pillars of the porticoes and watching the other soldiers train._

_She had abandoned archery practice with her mother after her return, preferring to spend time with her son. Besides, unlike sword-fighting, archery hadn’t been particularly useful during her adventures._

_“Exhausted?”_

_Emma glanced up when she heard the question, a smile spreading across her face when she saw Graham looking down at her. “I’ve been training with my father for hours. What do you think?”_

_Graham chuckled and then sat beside her, but even though she didn’t look away from the soldiers, she could feel his gaze on her. “So, you’ve been back a week. Do you miss adventuring? I know that palaces are **very** different to everything else that’s out there.”_

_“It’s not adventuring I miss.” Emma answered truthfully. She would happily spend her life on grand adventures, or simply in the palace, as long as Killian and Henry were with her._

_“A person then?” Graham stated, an understanding smile on his lips. “The reason you can’t marry me?”_

_She was going to tell him everything, to take this opportunity to mention Killian to someone other than Henry. She wanted **someone** to know that she loved him, that she’d found him when she wasn’t even looking for him, and Graham was her friend and he would listen._

_But she didn't get the chance to begin talking, because her mother was hurrying across the courtyard towards them, looking utterly distraught, and Emma had no idea what could cause such an expression._

_“They’re gone, Emma.” she breathed when she reached them, and Emma stared at her in confusion. “Our soldiers in the north. Almost all of them are dead.”_

_“How?” Emma asked, aghast. They had been sending soldiers up to the borders for years, caught in a never ending struggle to maintain a stalemate with Regina without such tremendous casualties._

_“It’s Whitekeep, Emma.” Snow said mournfully, and Emma gaped at her. “She’s destroyed Whitekeep. Burnt it.”_

_Whitekeep was almost as large as the town surrounding the palace, the north having become a home to many of their men, settling down and starting their own families and businesses instead of returning back south once they were recalled from duty._

_And Regina had razed it to the ground._

_“And there were no survivors?” Graham spoke up, looking as horrified as Snow White. “She killed the whole town?”_

_“Not just the soldiers were killed. There were children there, and they all burned.” Snow said, stumbling over the last sentence. “And she says she’ll do it again.”_

_And then Snow hurried away, still looking as stunned as Emma felt, but with a duty to tell the horrendous news to the war council, as well as the multitude of guards who had family there._

_The only thing Emma could even think of was that if she had just married Graham, if she had returned with her son and agreed to wed him, Whitekeep would still be standing. The children there would have grown up, would have **lived**. But she’d said no. She’d said she couldn’t do it._

_She had been selfish and people had died. People had burned._

_“Graham?” she whispered, guilt overwhelming her, and she felt no better when he took her hand in his, his thumb brushing the back of her hand in an attempt to comfort her. “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”_

_“But your person?”_

_“I can’t let any more people die because of what I want.” she stammered, pulling her hand from his and wishing it was Killian beside her to tell her everything would be okay._

_Except if Killian was there, it might be harder to do the **right** thing._

_“We’ll do it. We’ll have a big public wedding, a huge celebration so everyone knows. We’ll put on a show.” she said, determined, and she knew Graham was staring at her in shock. “Because it’s not going to be a marriage, Graham. Henry, and the man I love, they come first. This wedding, it’s to celebrate a merger. Nothing more. But we’ll have peace. And we’ll marry soon, before she has the chance to kill again.”_

~~~*~~~

The caves underneath Regina’s palace were difficult to navigate, the single entrance leading to a fork in the road, each path branching off into further, smaller pathways. But Killian had found his way into the palace once before, and he seemed confident that he could lead them through the darkness without the three of them getting lost.

And he was right, the group emerging into a poorly-lit dungeon, the two cells empty. “I suppose she must have had an execution recently.” Killian mumbled dryly, but as horrible as that thought was, Emma was glad that there were no guards on duty to delay them.

But she had hoped too soon. After climbing the staircase into the main palace, recognisable because of the dark, metallic hallways and ornate mirrors decorating the walls, they only made it down a few corridors before a wall of guards blocked their way, Regina herself standing before them.

She didn’t even speak, clicking her fingers and watching with a smug smile as the men charged past her to engage Emma, Killian and David.

And then everything happened quickly, David storming past the men to face Regina, slicing at her and managing to take her by surprise, his sword cutting a thin line along her cheek. Killian and Emma fought the guards, Killian’s moves graceful and vicious, spinning and parrying and barreling the men to the ground. Emma was less refined, unprepared for fighting such a large group, and so preferring force over skill, kicking out and thrusting her sword clumsily at each guard until they dropped to the floor.

“I have her blood!” David called, Regina having vanished in a burst of smoke, obscuring everyone’s vision for a few seconds. “Take it and run, Emma. The plan Hook suggested, we can do it.”

She nodded, pushing past some more guards to reach her father and then ran her thumb carefully along his blade, staining her thumb with the blood Regina had spilled when David managed to injure her.

Apparently aware of Emma and David’s conversation, even in the midst of a duel with three other men, Killian yelled out the directions, David intercepting a few of the guards so Killian wasn’t too outnumbered. “Get to the tower, Emma. I’ll stay with your father.” Killian insisted. “Be safe.”

“You too.” she called, already darting down the hallway away from her family.

~~~*~~~

She hated that she had to leave her father and Killian facing the guards, but seeing as they could no longer rely on stealth, Killian’s plan to release Regina’s prisoner and call Rumplestiltskin to aid them seemed to be the only one they had left.

Emma was well aware of Regina’s blood smeared on her thumb and the sound of guards chasing after her, some of them having gotten past Killian and her father in order to follow her. She was risking enough by searching for this prisoner, and she couldn’t allow herself to be caught.

She stumbled down a flight of stairs and into the nearest room, hoping there was something in there she could use to hide from the guards until they passed her, but when she turned around to scan the room for a wardrobe or closet or something like that, she saw a woman staring at her in shock. She looked older than Emma, a few grey streaks obvious in her brown hair, a permanent frown line between her eyebrows, and she was definitely not a guard.

“Who are you?” The woman asked hesitantly, holding out a knife in defense. “What are you doing in the kitchen?”

Emma glanced around, noticing the herbs and dried meat hanging from the ceiling, and realised she’d gone the wrong way. “I need to get to the prison. The tower. Wherever Regina keeps her prisoners.”

“You want to stop her, don’t you?” the woman asked, lowering the knife. “The Evil Queen? If you do want to stop her, I want to help.”

“You want to help?” Emma repeated. “Don’t you work for her?”

“She has my heart. I _have_ to work for her.”

Emma grimaced, unsure if she could trust the woman to help if Regina had such a hold over her. “And I’m supposed to trust that you’re not going to lead me into a trap or betray me?”

“I’m just a kitchen maid. Her Majesty doesn’t control me. She just makes it so I can’t leave.” The woman explained, but Emma still wasn’t certain what to do. “I’m Grace.”

“Grace? Well, Grace, what would be helpful would be if you could sneak me up to one of her prisoners. I don’t know the prisoner’s name, or if she’s even still here, but she would locked in the tallest tower and no one other than Regina would usually be able to get in.” Emma said quickly, realising her time would be far better spent actually getting to the tower instead of chatting. “I need to get there as soon as I can.”

“I actually can help with that.” Grace said, a chuckle escaping her and then Emma watched as she turned and ladled what looked like gruel into a small wooden bowl. “I bring food to the prisoners some days, so it won’t even be suspicious if you go with me and you're carrying food or something Just cover that cloak with something less white and we might even be able to get up to the tower without any guards stopping us.”

Emma nodded, surprised by Grace’s eagerness to help, but after a moment’s thought, she figured that it wasn’t too unexpected for a woman to want to hurt the person who had taken her heart. And there was something about her, a familiarity that Emma couldn’t explain but just made her _trust_ Grace.

So after Grace had given her an old blue cloak and Emma had arranged it over her own, the two of them left the kitchen and Grace led her through the palace. Emma pulled the hood of the cloak over her face, wanting to hide from the mirrors as much as possible so that Regina couldn’t figure out what she was up to.

Grace's plan was surprisingly effective, the two of them passing by most of the guards without receiving a second glance. This was helped by the fact that most of the guards seemed to be hurrying towards the lower floors, where Killian and David must still be fighting.

She couldn't help but think of the story Killian told her, how he'd hidden under his cloak and pretended to be delivering his food when he first snuck up to the woman's prison. He'd told her, ashamed, how he’d abandon the ruse on stairs, plunged his hook into a guard’s neck and killed him.

Emma hoped that there would be less casualties this time.

Nearing the top of a long staircase, Emma felt a thrill of excitement when she saw two guards standing either side of a wooden door. Although there was no way they could release the prisoner without fighting them, their presence was final confirmation that the prisoner was there, that they could call Rumplestiltskin and he could help them.

Whoever was trapped in that room had to be important, guarded by soldiers and a blood seal.

There was no point pretending they were actually intending to simply feed the prisoner, so when Grace began to speak to the guard, stating that she was bringing her food for the day, Emma drew her sword and bashed one of the man with pommel, knocking him, unconscious, to the floor.

Emma pulled Grace aside before the remaining guard had the chance to attack her, her sword held out before the two of them to block any of the guard’s furious swings of his own weapon. With Grace cowering in a corner, Emma tried to press forward and push the guard away, sweeping her sword upwards to attempt to disarm him. He stumbled back, pulling his sword in and then thrusting towards her, catching her upper thigh and making Emma fall forwards, almost losing her balance. But she didn’t fall, and when his sword came down again, she ducked underneath it, passed him, and forced her elbow back, making a sharp crack as it connected with the back of his head and caused him to collapse.

The two guards down, Emma staggered to the door and pressed her thumb against the lock, Regina’s blood dry on her skin. There was a moment where nothing happened, but then the air rippled and the door swung open.

For a minute, Emma didn’t even step inside, instead leaning against the doorframe and pressing her hand down on the wound to her thigh, trying to stop the bleeding.

But then she remembered that she couldn’t waste time, and stepped into the dark cell.

A small woman was curled up on a bed, her hair lined with grey, looking even older than Emma guessed she actually was because of how pale and ill and _thin_ she was. “Who are you?” the woman asked, her voice quiet and hoarse. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for you.” Emma said, seeing the woman’s eyes widen. “To rescue you. For Rumplestiltskin?”

“Rumple?” The woman repeated, a shaky smile spreading across her face, the reaction at odds with what Emma was expecting from her. “He sent you to get me? I thought he-”

“Sorry, but we’re in a bit of a rush.” Emma interrupted, and Grace crossed the room to help the woman stand, her legs clearly weak after decades trapped in a room. “I’m Emma, by the way.”

“Belle.”

Emma nodded in acknowledgement and then limped out of the room, starting back down the stairs. Grace and Belle followed her, Grace’s arm holding Belle steady.

~~~*~~~

Their trip back through the palace, back to Killian, was slow. Emma's leg throbbed painfully with each step, the bleeding slowing but not stopping, and Belle was unsteady on her feet, relying on Grace's assistance to move.

But eventually, Emma turned the corner and saw Killian and David, surrounded by the bodies of many guards, their blades red. David had a thin scratch along his cheek and a bruise forming on his chin, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Killian's face was unmarred, but his sword arm was hanging uselessly by his side, a tear in his shirt revealing a deep piercing wound to his bicep, one he couldn't put pressure on with no left hand.

Even with such a wound, a brilliant smile spread across his face the instant he saw Emma, and he hurried across the distance between them, wrapping his hooked arm around her waist and holding her to him, Emma sagging towards him as she took all weight off her injured leg. "What happened? Who hurt you?"

"I'm fine." She insisted, even though she knew that allowing him to hold her up suggested otherwise. "What about you? Who did that to you? _How_ did anyone do that to you?"

"I may be more skilled than any of these so-called guards, but even I can't defeat this number of men without obtaining a wound or two." He explained, and Emma felt him kiss her hair.

"Or two?" She asked, and Killian chuckled. "What else?"

"I'm sure I'm bruised somewhere. Not that it matters when your leg is bleeding like that."

"At least I can walk." Emma said, pulling out of his embrace to demonstrate that she could stand without assistance. "Can you even fight anymore?"

Killian didn't get a chance to answer, a quiet, terrified whimper sounding from behind them. Emma turned to see Grace and Belle had finally caught up, and the ex-prisoner was staring at Killian in terror. David had run over to assist them, but Belle was struggling and trying to get away.

"You said you were taking me to Rumple." She protested, nearly collapsing when she broke away from Grace, David catching her elbow and holding her up. "This man wants to kill Rumple, not bring me to him! The man in front of you, that pirate, tried to kill me when I couldn't help! But, he hasn’t changed, I don’t understand how can he still look the same? He must have used some evil magic so he won’t age, so he can come back and ask me questions he knows I can't answer."

Killian looked horrified, unable to look at Emma or her father. David looked uncertain, whatever confidence he had in Killian appearing to vanish at Belle's words.

"I told you the truth, Belle." Emma pleaded, grateful that Belle was too weak to run from them. "Regina has my mother, and Rumplestiltskin promised he'd help if we could find you, if you were even still alive. Killian, well, he's helping me. He's changed. He's-"

"Sorry." Killian whispered, his voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. And you have no reason to believe me, but I'm here for Emma. Not to harm you."

"For Emma?" Belle asked, appearing to finally notice the lack of distance between Emma and the pirate. Wanting to demonstrate exactly what they meant to each other, Emma reached out and laced her fingers with his. "I'm sorry, but I can't imagine the man I met feeling something for anyone other than himself."

Emma felt Killian’s hand flex around hers, and she wanted to protest and tell Belle that the man she had met, decades earlier, was different now. That he truly regretted what he'd done. And he may never have said those exact words to Emma, but she'd heard the loathing in his voice when he told her why he'd ventured into the Queen's palace before, what he'd done when Belle didn't have the information he was desperate for.

But before she had the opportunity, her father stated Rumplestiltskin's name three times, his voice loud and determined.

The second David finished speaking, a dark red puff of smoke appeared in the corridor, spiralling upwards and outwards until it dispersed and revealed the Dark One. And he had no opportunity to do anything, as in the moment he appeared, Belle tugged herself free from David and darted over to Rumplestiltskin, wrapping her arms around his neck with nothing more than a sound of pure happiness. Rumplestiltskin floundered for only a second and then his arms were wrapped around Belle’s waist and he was holding her tightly.

But Killian didn’t seem willing to watch Rumplestiltskin’s reunion with Belle, and Emma watched as he clenched his jaw and looked angrily up at the ceiling. “As joyful as this reunion is, time’s wasting. You made a deal, so you better do what I asked.”

Rumplestiltskin raised his head and moved one arm away from Belle’s waist, flourishing his hand as if casting some sort of spell, except nothing happened. “I don’t break deals. The mirror I told you about will be in Regina’s throne room. Get Regina there, and you can rid this land of her. You won’t even have to take her life, which is what you wanted.”

It was clear from the darkness in Rumplestiltskin’s expression that had he not made such a deal, Regina wouldn’t be living for much longer.

"A mirror?" Emma asked, unsure how that would help them. "How will that get rid of her?"

"Oh, just give her a push!" Sang the Dark One, and then Emma turned away to give Rumplestiltskin and Belle a moment without an audience.

"Killian, you never mentioned a mirror." She stated, searching the pirate's face for any sign that he knew more than he was telling them. "How does it work?"

"We don't need to know how it works. Just that it does." Killian answered, and although he wasn't looking away from her wounded leg, Emma could sense there was something he wasn't saying. "We should go now."

"But we don't even know where the throne room is." Emma said, stopping him from striding off. "Unless... Grace, could you show us the way?"

Grace nodded but Emma was more focused on Killian, surprised by the way his head had jolted up, fixing an intense stare on the kitchen maid. And then his eyes widened, and he glanced again between the older woman and Emma's wounded leg, his tongue running nervously across his lips.

“We should split up.” He said slowly, and Emma could tell, again, that he was holding _something_ back.

“But we need each other.”

Killian looked uncertain, his gaze hovering over the wound on her leg with a slight frown before he grimly nodded to himself,  and then he looked up into her eyes unfalteringly, his jaw clenched and a determined gleam in his eyes. “I’ll go alone. I have to do this. I have to make sure everything will be alright.”

“If you come with me, everything _will_ be alright.” Emma muttered, but Killian shook his head and then used his hook to pull her to him, pressing his lips against hers in a kiss that felt the same as the goodbye he had given her at the Dark One’s castle a month before.

And Emma didn’t know why it felt like he was _leaving_ her when they were so close. When they had promised forever to each other.

So she tried to hold him close, wanting to stop him from whatever it was he wanted to do, whatever he was lying about, but he just brushed his lips against hers one more time and then stood back. “I know you know I’m not telling you everything.” he whispered, so only Emma could hear him. “And it’s because it’s not important. I just want to make sure, that no matter what happens today, we won’t be separated again. I think I know how I can make that happen, but I don’t want to delay you in reaching your mother. So if you go ahead, I _promise_ I will meet you in the throne room and we will fix everything together. All I want is to make sure I won’t lose you, and if that means taking a short detour right now, I need to do that.”

“You won’t explain further?” Emma asked, reaching out to brush her hand across his injured arm. “Or take someone with you? I’m not sure you can fight with your arm like that.”

“I shouldn’t need to fight.” He reassured. “I won’t be gone too long.”

“Promise?” She was still whispering, and she watched as Killian gently wrapped his hook round her wrist and raised her hand to his lips, placing a kiss just below the large ring he had given her. “You’ll come back?”

“I will always come back for you, my love.”

And although she wanted him to stay with her, she watched him brush by her and run down the corridor, past Grace and Belle and Rumplestiltskin. David appeared to be watching him leave, confusion written on his face.

“Where’s he going, Emma?” her father asked, moving to take Killian’s place next to her. “I’m pretty certain that’s the wrong way.”

“I don’t know.” she answered quietly, gesturing for Grace to start leading them through the palace. “But he’ll find us. Now, we need to go and find mom.”

But they only got a few steps down the hallway before halting, Snow White herself appearing before them in a puff of purple smoke. Emma heard her father stagger back, but Emma held her ground.

Snow White looked different, her face drawn and sad, eyes dim and mouth downturned, and it horrified Emma to see how she had changed, to know that she was only standing in front of them because of Regina, that the Evil Queen was hidden somewhere in her palace with her mother's heart in her hand.

“What a touching display of true love and hope and determination?” Snow snarled, bitterness evident in her tone, and it was clearly Regina speaking to them, making her words hurt even more by delivering them through Snow White herself. “But maybe it’s time for you to learn that sometimes that’s not enough. Sometimes, the villains win.”

“You’re wrong.” Emma snarled, feeling her father shaking with fury behind her. “You’re not going to win, no matter what you do. Even if it’s not us, someone, someday, will stop you.”

Snow shrugged. “As long as it’s not your family. Snow White took my true love from me, and I won’t stand to see the two of you take away even more.” Even as she bit out every word, Snow looked apologetic, horrified at what she was being forced to say. “Fortunately for me, you two seem determined for me to have to take Snow White from you. I quite like the idea, of killing her, her last thought being that I’m doing to you what she did to me. Taking away your _happiness_.”

“It’s been almost forty years!” Emma snapped, unable to hear her mother’s voice saying any more terrible things. “Move on. If you let it go, or at least realised she was only a child, maybe you could be happy. Because I _know_ now that losing someone you love may make you turn to the darkness, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be happy again and find someone else.”

“You’re talking about your pirate. About Hook.” Snow said with a cruel laugh. “Maybe you’ll reconsider once you lose him. And I’ll make sure you lose him. I have eyes everywhere in this palace, princess. Do you think I don’t know where he is? That I can’t find him and kill him before you even get a chance to say goodbye?” Emma’s breath caught, terrified by the thought of Killian being found by Regina, having his life ripped from him when she wasn’t there to try and save him, what it would be like to feel that she’d lost him, that he’d died alone. “Or you could give up any claim to your throne, and I’ll let him live. Isn’t it appealing, the idea of sailing the seas with him, with no responsibilities to return to?”

“The kingdom will never accept you.” David said, sounding broken but determined. “Even if I die, and Emma leaves, they’ll _never_ love you.”

That seemed to be the last straw, a ripple of pain evident on Snow’s face for only a second before she collapsed to her knees, clutching at her heart, and Emma _knew_ what was happening, horror tearing through her as her father pushed Emma aside and ran to Snow’s side, Snow leaning into him and fumbling to take David’s hand. And David was kissing her cheeks, kissing away tears, and murmuring that everything would be alright, even though he was crying too, his free hand pressed to his own heart as if it too was being physically crushed.

“I love you, Charming.” Snow White said, forcing the words out despite the pain she was feeling. “I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.”

“And I will love you until my last.” David promised, sobbing and holding Snow even closer, even when she fell still and stopped breathing.

And Emma couldn’t watch anymore, her own tears staining her cheeks, turning away from the scene and burying her face in her hands, hiding her tears from Grace, Belle and Rumplestiltskin, who were still there and still watching.

But instead of grief, all Emma could feel was anger, and when she forced herself to look back at her father, her mother in his arms as he wept over her, fury rushed through her.

Pushing Regina through a mirror wasn’t enough anymore. The Evil Queen needed to die, and Emma would enjoy being the one to kill her.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! There's only one more chapter (and then maybe an epilogue) after this, so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the kudos, and comments! And, as always, thank you to HawkEye733 for betaing!

**Chapter 9**

Emma wanted to run away, couldn't face standing to watch her father sob over the body of her mother, pressing a few desperate, hopeful,  _useless_  kisses to her lips. She wanted to take her sword, a dagger, something else dangerous, and go to Regina and make sure she would never kill anyone ever again.

But at the same time, she didn't want to leave her father's side, because he was bound to need her, need someone to comfort him even if it would be impossible for him to ever feel  _okay_ again.

So she stayed close, busying herself with searching the unconscious guards for a dagger, wanting something less unwieldy and obvious than her sword, should she get to face Regina.

"Emma?" Her father sounded completely broken, his voice quiet and hoarse. "I don't know what to do."

And she didn't know what to do either, but he looked so lost, holding her mother's body gently, his forehead resting against Snow's. Tucking a short dagger into her boot, she crossed the short distance to her father, kneeling down to wrap her arms around him.

She should have felt more devastated, but it seemed too impossible to believe that they could have come this far and still failed to save Snow. And now that they  _had,_ she couldn't accept it was real. She didn't feel the despair she had felt when Graham died before her, or when she'd realized Pinocchio was truly gone. She just felt empty.

"I wish there was something I could do." she muttered, hating how her father was trembling in her embrace. "But I don't think there is. I don't think anything can bring her back, not now. Not even magic."

She had expected her words to make things worse, but a hopeful expression bloomed on her father's face. She couldn't even attempt to guess what he was thinking, what could make him look so optimistic when his true love was lifeless in his arms.

"Magic." he breathed, gazing at Emma as if she should know exactly what he was talking about. "We can talk to the Dark One. He's  _here_ , he can help us. If anything can bring Snow White back to me, it's him."

Emma was uncertain. She'd made deals before and she imagined the price of bringing someone back would be too much, but the light in her father's eyes made it impossible for her to let him down. "I'll bring him here."

She hurried back around the corner, hoping desperately that he hadn't vanished away in a puff of smoke, and was relieved to see that Rumplestiltskin was still there, involved in a rather passionate embrace with Belle, Grace standing near them and looking as if she wished she was anywhere else.

And she didn't particularly want to interrupt them, but if her mother's life could be saved, it wasn't something that could wait.

So she cleared her throat, and although Rumplestiltskin seemed reluctant to part from Belle, the noise seemed to have startled Belle into pulling back, and when the older woman turned and saw Emma, a look of worry appeared on her face.

And that was already more compassion than Emma would have expected from an apparent lover of the Dark One's, and she felt a vague stirring of hope that maybe, with Belle there, any deal she had to make might not be too bad.

"What is it?" Belle asked, stepping fully out of Rumplestiltskin's embrace and tottering over to Emma, still unsure on her feet. "What's wrong?"

Emma didn't answer - couldn't say the truth out loud - so she silently turned on her heels and led Belle, Rumplestiltskin and Grace back around the corner to the devastating tableau made by her parents.

"We need you to do something. To save her." Emma begged and Rumplestiltskin only laughed. "Please! Surely there's something you can think of, something you can try. Soon."

Rumplestiltskin seemed to consider it, tapping his fingers together, and then took a light, quick step closer David. "There might be something. But it's never been done before and it  _is_ risky. For true loves like yourselves, it might be survivable."

"What is it?" David asked hurriedly, finally looking up from his wife to gaze up at the Dark One. "Tell me. I'll do it."

"I could split your heart." And Rumplestiltskin said it like it was nothing, as if it's a simple spell that will do no harm, but Emma was starting to  _know_ heart magic, and she doubted anything would be easy. "You keep half, she takes half. You both live. You both die."

"And if it doesn't work?" Emma asked, because she wasn't sure she could bear it if it  _didn't_  work and she lost both of her parents at once.

"Charming here just dies a bit sooner than he would have." Rumplestiltskin said, and Emma looked down to see her father gazing up at her. And she  _knew_  he wanted to try, that he would have already agreed if not for her, if not for the chance that it  _would_  go wrong and he would die and leave her too.

As much as she didn't want to risk it, she'd thought enough about regret to know that if she stopped her father from  _trying_ , she would never forgive herself. "Do it." she choked out, and her father looked both shocked and grateful. "It's what Mom would do. She would believe."

And David smiled, a tremulous, absurdly  _hopeful_  smile, and he nodded. "I'll do it."

Rumplestiltskin suddenly seemed to shudder with pleasure, letting loose an ominous giggle and arching his fingers like he was preparing for something.. He looked far too happy, and Emma felt uneasiness spread through her, but it was too late now. "Alright, dearies, but first, we must discuss the price. I can't just bring someone back to life for  _free_  or then everyone will expect the same and I can't have that."

"A price?" Emma hissed, and it appeared Belle was going to say the same thing, because the soft look that had been in her eyes whenever she looked at the Crocodile had faded instantly with his words. She couldn't think of anything worth the same as bringing her mother back, and she couldn't bear for her father to lose any more, to have to promise any more, when he was suffering so much. "No. You do this, and I'll kill Regina for you. I won't use this mirror. I'll  _kill_  her."

Rumplestiltskin looked tempted, a frighteningly exhilarated gleam lighting his black eyes. "Oh, I do like that." he trilled, and he stared at Emma as if he was trying to read her, as if to see if that was a deal she really was willing to make.

"If that's the price, I can't do this. I can't make this deal." David said quietly, sounding even more broken than before. "I can't get Snow back if it means you lose yourself, Emma."

And everything was taking too long, because surely it had be less possible to bring Snow back with each minute she was dead. She wanted to tell David to do it, because that she fully intended to kill Regina whether he accepted the price or not, but she didn't want to see how he would look at her, especially if it did go wrong and he died too.

Except maybe she could convince Rumplestiltskin to help anyway. Belle was looking horrified by what Rumplestiltskin was promising, and although Emma had only just met the woman, she had seen the way she gazed at Rumplestiltskin, the way he gazed back at her, and if she could appeal enough to Belle, then the Dark One might be swayed to help them without any demands of his own.

"Please, Rumplestiltskin." Emma began, feeling everyone's focus on her and having an awful desperation to succeed, because she feared that if this attempt failed, her mother would truly be dead and nothing would convince the Dark One to bring her back. "She's family. Can't you help her because she's family?"

"Family?" The wizard looked intrigued, but unconvinced, but it was Belle Emma was looking at. She was clearly concerned, watching as David stroked Snow's hair, held her close and muttered words to her as if she could hear him, as if she was the one needing reassuring, even though Emma knew the words were meant for him. "How?"

"She's Henry's grandmother. Henry will never forgive you if you stand by and let her die, and Henry is willing to forgive a lot." Emma pleaded, hoping he had some love for the grandson he had looked after for months. "You may have taken him from me, but you cared for him. I know you did. Henry told me. He calls you grandpa when he talks about you. He wouldn't do that if his time with you with horrendous."

"She's not family." Rumplestiltskin laughed, as if Emma's statement was nonsense. "You chose to make your family with the  _pirate_ , not my son. Henry doesn't make us family."

"I loved Baelfire. I did. But true love is different and special, and I didn't look for it, but it found me, and I know you understand, because I know that you made a deal with Killian to save Belle, even though you weren't even sure if she was alive, and because I've watched my parents look at each other the way you look at her." Emma stated desperately, sobs choking her words as she tried even harder to make him to do the right thing. "I could  _never_ be sorry that I found Killian, but Baelfire and I will always have Henry, and Baelfire will  _always_ be Henry's father. And we're not together, we're never going to be together, but we're going to be as much of a family as we can be for him. Henry is lucky to have so many people who love him and are you going to let him lose someone you could have saved?" And Rumplestiltskin looked taken aback, and Emma could see her words had reached Belle, a pleading look in the older woman's eyes. "What would Baelfire want you to do? What do you think Belle wants you to do?"

Rumplestiltskin looked more  _human_  for a second, turning to Belle with wide eyes and a questioning gaze. And Belle simply nodded at him, a trusting, expectant smile on her lips, and Emma  _knew_ he would help.

David lowered Snow to the floor gently, standing up and reaching out to pull Emma into a quick, final hug, his arms tight around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I love you, Emma." he said, and Emma pressed her lips together, stopping herself from crying. "And I know that this isn't goodbye. I believe it."

And then he let her go and stepped in front of Rumplestiltskin, a nod the only thing needed before Rumplestiltskin plunged his hand into David's chest and David groaned in pain, his hand darting to his chest once Rumplestiltskin drew out the pulsing, vibrant red organ.

It felt surreal to watch the Dark One twist her father's heart in his hands and tear it in two, a surprisingly neat split down the center, and Emma hated seeing her father's heart outside of his body, knowing that all that Rumplestiltskin had to was clench his fist and David would be gasping and  _dying_.

Except Rumplestiltskin didn't do that, he just plunged one half into Snow and then returned the rest to David, her father gasping deeply when his heart was back in his body.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Her father didn't collapse, half a heart not enough to sustain him, but her mother didn't wake either, and Rumplestiltskin shrugged, as though he had expected it. "I said it was risky." he said, as if it was nothing more than an interesting experiment, not Emma's world collapsing around her. And then he took Belle's hand, and they both vanished in a puff of deep red smoke, so it was just Grace, Emma and her family left in the corridor.

"Please, Snow, please come back to me." David murmured, pressing a last desperate kiss to his wife's lips and then there was a gasp, and Emma couldn't believe it, but her mother's eyes were opening, she was awake, and she was  _herself_  again, looking at up David with such unadulterated love in her eyes that Emma had to look away.

And as much as Emma wanted to go to them, to hug them both, to have her mother back, the boiling hatred for Regina couldn't be suppressed by despair anymore, and she wouldn't let Regina hurt anyone else again, wouldn't let another town be burned the way Whitekeep was, or let another family be destroyed because of an old woman's bitterness.

Emma knew her parents wouldn't want that. But she couldn't let them stop her. So she left her mother and father, pressed together in a soft, thankful kiss, and ran off down the corridor, hearing footsteps behind her but unwilling to stop.

But she had to halt when she felt someone take hold of her wrist and pull her to a standstill. "Don't stop me." she bit out, twisting to see it was Grace that had stopped her. "You know what I'm doing, what I have to do."

"I do." Grace said, nodding her head. "So I'm not stopping you. I just want to tell you that I know a quicker way to the throne room. I want to help."

* * *

 

With Grace leading Emma through the palace, they reached the door to the throne room quickly. And even though Emma was reluctant to face Regina completely alone, she understood when Grace refused to enter the room with her. After all, Grace's heart was held by the Queen, and Emma knew Regina would have no qualms with crushing it if Grace revealed how she had helped them.

She understood why Grace didn't want to risk that.

So Emma pushed the door open and walked into the large room, one that looked even bigger due to the multitude of mirrors decorating the walls. Regina was already there, examining a tall old mirror that Emma just  _knew_ was the one Rumplestiltskin had told them to use.

And the Queen was just looking at it, a strange wand held in one hand, and all Emma needed to do was cross the room and push her, send her away, but she didn't want to do that.

She still wanted her dead.

So with the small dagger held in her hand, knuckles white, she started to cross the room. She could see herself in the mirror, and she doubted she'd ever looked so  _unhinged_ , with her body tense, eyes furious, cloak stained with blood, limping closer and closer to the woman who had crushed her mother's heart.

But Regina could see her reflection and a cruel, thrilled smile spread across her face. She didn't even turn around to face Emma before speaking. "Hold fast."

"What?" Whatever she had expected Regina to say, it wasn't that, but she couldn't move her feet anymore. It felt like her cloak was  _weighing_  her down, keeping her in place, and Emma didn't understand why, but Regina was laughing and Emma felt helplessness overwhelming her, horrified at how quickly she'd failed.

At least it looked like Regina's words about Killian were just a bluff, for he was nowhere to be seen.

Regina stepped away from the mirror, striding slowly over to Emma with the smug expression that came with victory and leaned in uncomfortably close to Emma. "How did it go? Oh, I remember. A gift of good faith for the bride."

And it took Emma a few minutes to realize what she was saying, the note that had been gifted to her with the cloak having left her mind almost instantly after reading, but now, with Regina repeating the words and smirking at her, the mystery she had never cared about, who had given her the cloak, was solved in just a few words.

"It was you?" Emma breathed, feeling herself giving up when she realized what trap she had run head-first, into. "You gave this to me? I don't understand."

"Didn't you even  _wonder_  who gave you something so beautiful?" Regina gloated, the triumph twisting her face. "I've had  _decades_  to plot my revenge. Do you think that simply  _killing_ Snow White was enough for me? After she took everything? I knew how irritatingly persistent your family are, I can predict what Snow and her precious Charming can do. But you, I don't know you. Although, given your parents, I'm not surprised you're here and trying to stop me. That's why I needed  _something_  I could use."

For a second, hatred bubbling through her, Emma wants to gloat back, let Regina know that her plan  _still_ failed, that Snow White is alive in David's arms. Emma wants to see the look on the Queen's face when she knows that, even know, she still can't win. But she doesn't want her parents to be subjected to any more, especially now that Emma's failed so spectacularly at stopping Regina, and the longer it takes Regina to find out the truth, the better.

"I will admit though, that this is even more delicious than I had hoped it would be." Regina reached out to run a finger along the feathers of the cloak, the touch making Emma shudder in disgust. "I gifted it to you in the hope that this would stop you from interfering when I tore your mother's heart out at your wedding. But  _this_ , for you to have come all the way here just for me to stop you now, with a simple phrase? I couldn't have planned this. You can't even begin to imagine the excitement I felt when I saw you in the hallway and you were wearing this. Do you even know what this is?"

"Get on with it." Emma retorted, not wanting to listen to more of Regina's bragging. "Surely you want this to be over just as much as I do."

"I don't want it to be over yet. I want to enjoy it just a bit more." Regina said, a cruel smile curving her lips. "This cloak, it's thought to be just a legend. A swan whose feathers trapped anyone who touched it, should someone say the correct words. Those people had to follow the swan around until they were released. But you, you're stuck right there, trapped underneath the cloak you've taken to parading around in."

"I know the story." Emma interrupted, remembering Jukes' telling the so-called legend to Henry, how she'd not even considered it to be the truth. And yet, she remembered how Rumplestiltskin had refused to touch it, even back when she first tried to take Henry back, and she should have  _known_ , should have suspected something. "I don't need to hear it. Magic swan, magic wand, I know the whole thing."

Regina deflated slightly, and Emma smirked. She may not be able to escape Regina, but she could irritate her. "It appears you do know it. So you'll know that with this wand, I'm the only one who can release you."

"Not that you will." Emma said, shrugging her shoulders and resigning herself to the fact that she was not going to get free, that the Evil Queen might have failed in killing Snow White, but there wasn't a chance she would failing in killing Emma.

Except if she could shrug her shoulders, maybe the only thing this cloak stopped her from doing was travelling. She could move her hands, move her arms, and Regina was so sure of her victory that she was standing within arms reach, waving the wand before Emma tauntingly.

And Emma was still holding the dagger.

She didn't even think about it, just slashed out and sunk the dagger through the back of Regina's hand, causing the Queen to drop the wand and screech out in pain, rage sparking in her eyes,

Emma tried to reach out, bending and trying to stretch her hand out as far as she could with the cloak holding her in place, but the wand was just out of reach, her fingers unable to even brush the wood and try to roll it closer.

And Emma was certain that once Regina was no longer crumpled to the floor and clutching her hand, she'd be able to heal her injury, that as painful and bloody as it was, it was only a distraction. She  _needed_ to get free, need to take Regina's preoccupation as the opportunity Emma needed to kill her.

Or just push her through the mirror

Emma didn't know anymore. She just wanted her gone.

But then she heard footsteps behind her, and she didn't know who it was, but Regina's tear-filled eyes widened and she gazed up at whoever was behind Emma with horror and anger. "You? You came for her?"

"Of course I came for her." And  _of course_  it was Killian. She didn't want him here, didn't want him in the same danger she was in, but at the same time, she was so glad she wasn't  _alone_ anymore. "You know what I was willing to do for my revenge. What do you think I'll do for  _her_ , Regina?"

"So that's how it's going to be?" Regina hissed. "You'll kill me for her?"

"No." Killian said quietly, and he was still out of Emma's line of sight, even when she tried to twist around to see him. "I'll spare you for her."

Regina looked utterly confused, and Emma took the chance to reach out her arm and gesture towards the wand on the ground, hoping Killian would understand what she was trying to tell him, even if he couldn't know that she was unable to move.

But he seemed to know what she wanted, as Emma saw him step in front of her, bending down to pick up the wooden stick. "Emma, love, what is this? Why do you-?"

"Jukes' story was true." Emma said urgently, hoping that was enough for him to understand, because Regina was climbing to her feet and Emma was certain she would escape any moment.

Killian might have been willing to spare her but Emma wasn't.

Killian canted his head to the side, eyes narrowing as he tried to remember what she was implying, and then he cast a wide-eyed, surprised look at the wand in his hand and then reached out cautiously to tap the wand to her cloak.

The instant it touched the material, she felt the unnatural weight lift off her and she could  _move_ again and the first thing she did was wrestle the cloak off her shoulders, refusing to risk being trapped by Regina once more, and then she lunged, pushing past Killian and knocking Regina back to the ground, one hand pulling at Regina's hair until she whimpered in pain, her other hand scrambling to get a hold of her sword, struggling when Regina was fighting back, using her uninjured hand to claw at Emma's face and trying to push her away.

And then she felt Killian's hand warm around her arm, pulling her up and away from the Queen, and Emma couldn't let him stop her, didn't know  _why_ he was stopping her. "I have to do this, Killian." she sobbed, seeing the way Regina was scrambling to her feet and fighting desperately to break loose from Killian. "She's gone too far, I can't let her live. The  _pain_ she's put me through, put my family through. My mother has spent her whole life looking over her shoulder and feeling guilty for every soldier's death because this  _monster_  can't move on from a petty grudge."

When purple smoke started to swirl around Regina's feet, Emma choked out one final plea for him to let her go and felt his hold loosen, just enough for her to stumble forward and  _finally_  pull her sword from its place at her side, and she raised it, ready to strike and stop Regina for good.

But she felt Killian forcing her to the ground, slamming past her to tackle Regina, pushing the Queen back towards the mirror, and Emma looked up and watched in horror as the mirror appeared to liquify, the surface molten and silver, and when Regina touched it, it appeared to catch her within its grasp, sucking her through.

And he'd done it.

Except when she looked up Killian, he wasn't looking triumphant, wasn't grinning down at her like she wanted. He looked resigned, devastated, and Emma felt her heart  _stop_ when she saw the silver creeping up his arms, when she realised that in pushing Regina to the mirror, he'd been caught in it's hold too, and with each second, he was being pulled through to whatever was on the other side.

"Why did you do that?" she sobbed, unable to say anything else as she watched the man she loved slowly get pulled away from her, halfheartedly trying to tug his arms loose but appearing to simply speed up whatever the mirror was doing. " _Why?_ "

"I couldn't let you do something you would regret." He said, voice hoarse, and he couldn't even  _look_ at her. "I'm sorry I have to say goodbye. I will  _always_ love you."

"Goodbye?" Emma repeated, and she was shouting at him, furious that he was letting himself be taken from her, that it was all her fault. "It can't be goodbye."

"Maybe not." he said, and his lips quirked just slightly, and he looked  _hopeful_  and Emma was so  _tired_ of losing people. "Don't lose hope, sweetheart. If there is a way to come back to you, and there  _has_ to be, I will find it."

And he was almost gone now, only his face and the ends of his toes still free from the molten surface, silver clinging to his hair. Emma struggled to her feet, the throbbing pain in her leg returning now that all her adrenaline had left her, and crossed the room to him, knowing from his warning look that he wanted her to stay as far from the mirror as she could, but she needed one more kiss.

One last kiss.

Keeping distance between them, she let her fingers trace the lines of his face and then leant in to press her lips, lightly, to his. "I love you."

Her nose brushed against his and then she had to pull away because the detestable silver was too close, and then she watched as he was engulfed and vanished from sight, the mirror solidifying and shattering the second he was gone.

And she couldn't hold herself up anymore, couldn't be  _strong_ , because he was gone. She fell to her knees, the glass from the mirror sharp underneath her but she didn't care. She reached down and picked up the largest shard, hoping that she'd look into it and see where he was, where he'd been  _taken_ , but all she saw was herself, eyes empty and cheeks tear-stained.

There was nothing.

She broke, holding the shard to her chest, uncaring that she could feel the sharp edges cutting into her skin. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. Killian,  _please_."

But she knew he couldn't hear her, couldn't respond, and even when she felt the warm arms of her father wrap around her, lifting her up as he whispered soothing words that she couldn't understand, her mother taking her hand, she couldn't do anything.

Killian had gone somewhere she couldn't follow and without him there to  _hope_ for her and promise everything would be alright, she couldn't believe she would ever get him back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The entire trilogy. Completed. I've been writing this for over a year now, and I want to say thank you to every single person who has read, commented or given kudos! 
> 
> So thank you all so, so much! There will be an epilogue, because I'm not ready to let these guys go yet. And besides, I'm sure you all want to see their happily ever after!
> 
> And thank you to HawkEye733, who has betaed every chapter and listened to all my ramblings about it (and there were a lot!)

**Chapter 10**

Emma wasn't aware of what happened after Killian fell through the mirror, but somehow her father had taken her from the palace, guiding her all the way back to the Jolly Roger and to her room. It was only when she felt him gently tucking her into her bed that she came back to herself, clutching at the blanket and holding it closer.

Because if she couldn't have him, she at least had this reminder, something she could feel.

And Emma couldn't understand how she could have managed everything else, succeeded at saving her mother, her son, and yet lose  _him_. She couldn't feel any sense of victory, not when it had come at such a price.

"He'll find you." David said, and she felt like a little girl again when he began to stroke her hair, perched on the edge of the bed beside her. "That's what true love does. You can't give up hope, Emma. And it may be hard right now, but you'll find a way to be happy."

"How can I be happy,  _truly_ happy, without him?" she whispered, and even as she said it, she was sure that she'd be alright. One day. Because she'd been happy before. Except now that she knew she could have  _more_ , feel  _more,_ it would be difficult to return to a life without him. "I love him. I've never loved anyone the way I love him."

"And he never loved anyone like he loves you." David said, and Emma gazed up at her father in confusion, wondering if that was something her father had assumed, or if he had been told that. David saw the question in her eyes, and a soft smile graced his lips. "He told me. He told me those exact words when I spoke to him about your future. And he didn't want to tell me. He got very embarrassed. But Hook said that you were the first woman that made him a better person, and that he'd happily be  _anything_ if it meant he could be with you. Because you might not have been the first person he loved, but you were the only person he loved with every part of him."

"He said that?" Emma whispered, burrowing deeper into the blankets. "To you?"

"He did. And then he got all embarrassed and just said that whatever he felt was between you and him and wasn't anything I needed to hear, but I think I knew enough by then anyway." David leant down and kissed her forehead, and then stood from the bed. "He might be a pirate, but that man is not going to let anything stop him from fighting to get back to you. So just don't stop hoping."

"I'm just sick of losing people, Daddy." she murmured, and David didn't look like he knew what to say. He just smiled, a sad, understanding smile, and left her in the room she had shared with Killian.

She wasn't alone for long. Emma had only just closed her eyes, wanting to surround herself with the warmth of the blanket, when she felt the mattress dip down next to her, and she peered up to see her mother looking down at her.

Emma had missed her mother  _so much_  but she hadn't realised just how much until Snow White was there next to her again.

Snow didn't say much, she just reached under the blanket to take Emma's hand in hers, brushing her thumb gently across the back of her daughter's hand in a gesture that made Emma feel better, because her mother was  _there_ and  _alive_  and comforting her in a way that only her mother could.

And then Snow felt the ring on her finger, and Emma knew she had because her mother glanced up at her with wide eyes. "That doesn't feel like the ring I gave you." Snow muttered quietly, and Emma let her mother draw their hands out from the warmth of the bed, watched Snow carefully as she gazed at the heavy, ill-fitting ring that graced Emma's finger.

"Oh, Emma." her mother breathed, and it was clear her mother hadn't had the chance to think about just what Killian was to Emma until that moment, and she looked as devastated as Emma felt. "Honey, I'm so sorry."

Hearing the pity in her mother's voice was too much and she couldn't say anything in response, just let her mother bundle her into her arms and hug her tightly.

But she was glad her mother wasn't saying anything, because as wonderful as her father's words had been, Emma didn't want people to keep telling her to have hope.

Because what if she  _did_ hope for him to come back, and he never returned? It was better to grieve now, to accept the reality of what had happened, than face the pain of waiting and waiting for a day that would never come.

So after only a few moments, Emma pulled away from her mother and reclined back in the bed, curling towards Killian's pillow, which still smelled of him. She didn't cry, she couldn't cry anymore, she simply lay there.

And eventually, her mother left her alone too and she could hear her parents talking just outside her door, but she didn't care enough to try and make out what they were saying.

She wasn't sure if she could care about  _anything_ anymore, but then she heard the door open once again, and Henry was crawling into bed next to her, and she knew she was wrong.

She may have lost Killian, but she still had Henry and that was more important than anything.

She twisted around to face him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling her son close, feeling Henry return the hug. "We did it." she muttered, her voice hoarse but steady. "Grandma's back. Everything's going to be okay now."

Henry didn't reply.

~~~*~~~

It was decided that the best way to declare victory over Regina was to reclaim the summer palace, so the Jolly Roger never departed from the small docks. Emma kept living on the ship for the first few days, as her parents busied themselves with sorting out the mess left behind by the Queen.

David had taken it upon himself to rid the palace of the vast number of mirrors, Emma refusing to even enter the palace again until all of them were gone. Most had been given away, but David had needed to hide one mirror away in a room, unable to gift a talking mirror to someone, but unsure what would happen if the glass was broken.

Snow White had chosen an even more trying task, returning the hearts from Regina's vault. She seemed to hope that taking on something that appeared impossible would be the best way to make up for everything she had done when under Regina's control, but so far, she had only managed to return the hearts to the servants.

Grace had told them that the servants were marked with a number, ensuring Regina could identify each heart should she need to use them. All the other hearts were unnamed, and as hopeful as Snow was that she could return every single heart to its rightful owner, there seemed to be no other way to identify them other than to take hold of the heart and order the owner to come to them. And Snow didn't want to take away their free will, even for good reason.

The first person to have their heart returned to their chest was Grace, and she had collapsed to the ground and clutched at her chest, the way Baelfire had done weeks earlier. Except it had been even worse, more overpowering. And Emma wouldn't say it out loud, but Grace was a good distraction from the absence of Killian, a grief she felt constantly anyway, especially when she went to sleep in the bed they had shared, surrounded by the pictures he had drawn on the wall.

Because Grace had been barely eleven when Regina took her heart, and she was now past forty, and it had been too long since she had felt  _anything_  strongly. Adjusting to emotions again was difficult, but Emma was happy to help,  _wanted_ to help.

It was wonderful to have someone to talk to. Someone who wasn't family, but a  _friend_ , and it had been a long time since Emma had had any friend other than Killian, and he was far more than a friend.

But Grace listened and tried to understand, and tried to  _empathise_ , because she was trying to feel and, as hard as talking about Killian was, it was strangely cathartic to speak to someone who wanted to hear everything and had no idea of what Emma should be feeling, who didn't make her feel  _wrong_ for missing him and yet not spending hours crying over her loss.

Because Snow thought she should be crying more, but Emma didn't want to cry, not around others.

She cried when she was under the blankets, wanting to be in his arms, wanting to be  _with_ him. She cried when she found his Captain's log and she read it, read the amazing things he thought about her, words he'd never said but had been plain in his eyes.

She cried when she took off her ring to get it resized, because although it was secure with the fabric underneath it, she couldn't risk losing it and so she needed it to fit. But during the days without it, her hand felt too light, her fingers too empty, and it was only those three days where she felt like she'd lost  _everything_ , lost even the small amount of hope that she hadn't realised she was clinging to.

She felt more like herself when she had it back on her finger. Even if she would never feel  _complete_ again, she could cope.

Emma didn't  _need_  Killian. She could survive without him. She just wished she didn't have to. She wished he was still there, that he could have met her mother, that they could have married one day, had that  _everything_  she had promised him.

She was playing with her ring one day, twisting it around her finger, when Grace asked if she thought Killian was dead. Emma knew he wasn't, knew with complete certainty that he was alive.

Grace said she understood, told Emma that although she hadn't seen her father in decades, she knew he was still alive. In fact, Grace said that all the hopes she had of him returning to her and taking her back from the Evil Queen had returned with her heart, emotions she hadn't felt the weight of in years.

But she was old enough, wise enough to realise that he wasn't coming back. That he'd gone through his magical hat with a false promise to return in time for tea. That he had never meant to return at all.

And it was as if lightning had struck Emma because  _of course_  Grace was Jefferson's daughter. She hadn't realised, had forgotten that because of two decades spent in Neverland with Killian, Jefferson hadn't aged but his daughter had.

She should have thought of him before, because Killian was in another realm, and Jefferson was the one man who could help them find him.

Jefferson  _would_ help them.

Grace clearly didn't how to react when Emma told her that she knew her father, that Jefferson and Killian had been searching for her, but Grace didn't know how to react to a lot of things.

When Emma told her father that she knew how to find Killian, David insisted on coming with her, on taking a few days to plan the journey. Although Emma wanted to find Killian as soon as possible, she couldn't help but agree when she saw how eager how father was to help, how much he too wanted Killian back with them.

Because, as David told Snow, Killian was family. And their family always found each other.

~~~*~~~

The day before Emma, David and Grace planned to begin their journey to Sherwood, to Jefferson, Baelfire came to visit. Henry ran to his father, arms around Baelfire's waist and Baelfire grinned down at him. "I heard you've been on an adventure." he stated, raising an eyebrow at Emma as if asking why she hadn't told him. Emma bit her lip and glanced down, feeling that she didn't have to explain herself to Baelfire. "Because you missed our last meeting. Not that it's your fault. Your mom should have told me."

Emma couldn't deal with Baelfire, no matter how civil they usually acted, not when she constantly felt so close to breaking. She just shrugged and took a seat in Henry's room, Grace perched beside her as usual, and watched Henry play with his father.

Baelfire had brought him another toy ship, an almost perfect replica of the Jolly Roger, and Henry had taken it with a smile and a nod, but refused to play battleships.

He hadn't played battleships since Killian went missing, and Emma worried it was because he thought it would upset her and as much as she loved how thoughtful her son was, she hated how cautious he was acting.

And so, she introduced Grace and Baelfire and waited until they were distracted by conversation to quietly leave them all alone. Baelfire and Henry could talk more without her there, and Grace and Baelfire seemed to find it easy to talk. Then again, she supposed maybe it was easy to bond with someone who had also experienced years without a heart. Baelfire was bound to understand Grace more than Emma ever could.

And that thought overwhelmed Emma with loneliness, because Henry was perfect and wonderful but sometimes she needed adult company, and she didn't really have anyone.

She ran from the palace, to the Jolly Roger, to what she had left of  _him_.

But when she boarded the ship, it felt empty and quiet and  _different_  and Emma didn't understand what had changed, other than the fact that it had.

She didn't see anyone as she crossed the deck, but Jukes was bustling around the galley, and Emma exhaled in relief that the ship hadn't been deserted, that the faithful cook was still there. "Jukes?" she asked quietly, and he turned.

She hadn't spoken much to him other than to tell him that Killian was gone, and seeing the grief in his eyes had been too much for her. But seeing him there, apparently the only man left on the ship, she felt a need to speak, to talk about Killian and about  _everything_. Maybe grief was easier shared.

"Swan, what are you doing here?"

"Can you call me Emma?" she asked, needing not to hear that name when Killian had created it, had whispered it sometimes when he was loving her. "Just Emma."

"I can." Jukes abandoned whatever he was making, taking a seat at the old, heavy table, and when Emma took the seat beside him, she could pretend, just for a second, that nothing had changed. That Killian was steering, that she was simply spending time with Jukes as they prepared food for the crew. "Now, Emma, what are you doing here?"

"I needed to be away from the palace." she answered with a shrug. "I never grew up in the palace like my mother did. It's not a home to me, not like this ship. What about you? Why are you the only one here?"

"The others are gone, Emma." he admitted, and she couldn't comprehend what he was saying, so she just gaped at the pirate until he explained further. "As much as we wish otherwise, Killian's gone. These men, they're pirates. They have been for centuries. They don't want to be here anymore, and I wasn't going to let them sail away with the ship."

"Don't want to be here?"

"What is the point in waiting for a Captain to come back, when there's no way for him to return?" It was as if the wound was fresh again, Jukes' certainty that Killian was  _gone_  devastating her.

"Then why are  _you_ still here?" she hissed, unsure who she was angry at and suddenly feeling less hopeful than she'd felt in days. "Why did you stay if you thought there was no hope?"

"Because I've grown fond of you, lass." Jukes said, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her arm. "Besides, Killian was like a son to me. He'd want to know  _someone_ was here for you and I know you have your family, but I wanted to be around the other person that loved him. The crew don't understand our grief, because he was their captain and their friend, but he wasn't their family."

Emma swallowed, her expression hardening as she took in Juke's words. He was right, Killian  _was_ family, but he didn't seem to understand that that meant they would find each other.

And Emma cared for Jukes too and she couldn't let him mourn when she knew how to get to Killian. And she could get there faster than a week-long carriage trip. She could get to Jefferson that  _day_ , she just hadn't realised before.

She might have struggled to be around Baelfire, but within hours he was going to be magicked back home by his father, back to Sherwood Forest, back to the forest that Jefferson lived in.

If she went with him, Killian could be with her again by the next day.

She left Jukes without an explanation, needing to be back at the palace before Baelfire decided to leave, and she didn't stop running until she was there, was striding along the corridor leading to Henry's room.

They were playing battleships together, although Henry seemed to back away from all his toy ships the minute he saw her, and she needed to talk to him about that, but if Baelfire agreed to her plan, there wouldn't be a need because Killian would be  _home_.

"You need to take me with you to Sherwood." she commanded, Baelfire tilting his head in question. "There's a man I need to speak to and I don't want to wait a week while I sit in a carriage. I want to see him now.  _Please_."

She knew he could sense her desperation when he agreed almost instantly, and maybe if Emma had been in the right mindset, she would have found it endearing how Grace shyly asked to accompany them and Baelfire grinned back at the woman with the same interested expression he had once directed at Emma.

But all Emma could do was tell Henry to promise David that she was alright, that she'd be back soon, and then wait for the time when the smoke would swirl around Baelfire's feet and they would be summoned back to Rumplestiltskin.

When the scarlet mist started to form around Baelfire, she took his hand and it was warm and comforting and familiar, but it wasn't  _right_ , and then she felt Grace's arm loop around hers and they were all holding on to each other when they appeared back in the Dark One's castle.

She didn't wait, turning on her heel and leaving immediately. And Grace didn't follow straight away, because she was saying a rather long goodbye to Baelfire, but then she was running and catching and linking her arm with Emma's again.

Emma thought she remembered the way to Jefferson's cottage, but Grace took the lead, leading them straight through Sherwood without appearing to worry about the dangers that could reach them in the woods. Emma felt Grace shaking as each step brought them closer to her father's house, and she wondered if Grace knew how to cope with her anxiety.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, and Grace didn't answer for a few moments.

But when she started talking, she spoke of Baelfire and of how he had reassured her that, although it took time, she would eventually feel normal again and her emotions would feel less alien. Emma had to quell a smile when Grace admitted that whatever it was Baelfire made her feel was new and exciting and very different to anything she remembered feeling back before her heart was taken.

Soon, Emma couldn't listen anymore.

Instead, she let herself hope, let herself grow more and more certain with each step that Jefferson would help them, would throw his hat to the ground and lead her through the portal to all the different realms until Killian was back at her side.

Except the cottage seemed empty.

Emma ran to the door and bent to pick the lock, her hands shaking with worry that the hatter was  _gone_ , that her hope was all in vain. She opened the door to a dark, dusty room, and she knew it was deserted, that Jefferson wasn't there, hadn't been in weeks. The hat box was on the table, but it was empty.

And she'd been stupid to hope, to place all her faith on a man who had spent years running.

She stumbled, sitting down on the rickety stool that she'd sat on so many months before, and she cried. She felt Grace's arm rubbing her back gently, the woman trying to comfort her even though Emma knew that she had been hoping just as much as Emma to find Jefferson here and waiting for her.

"He was my only option, Grace." Emma sobbed, pulling the hat box closer and resting her head against the leather, as if she could hold it tight enough and  _wish_ the hat back. "If I knew where Killian was, I could have used a magic bean. But I don't know where he is. Jefferson's hat was all I had. And it's gone. He's gone."

~~~*~~~

They put up posters, offered a reward for anyone who knew the location of the hatter, but Emma knew that if Jefferson didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

So Emma tried to be as happy as she could be, refusing to let the loss of Killian stop her from living. She was often with Henry, was  _happy_ with Henry, and she was determined to convince him to play with his toy ships again, because as much as she missed Killian, she refused to let it stop him from enjoying himself.

But Henry seemed different. He had always believed that she and Killian would be together, a voice of hope when she thought he had left her before. He wasn't like that anymore. Whatever he had believed about true love had changed. Losing Killian had disillusioned him, and as many stories as David told him, he didn't seem willing to believe anymore.

She spent time with Snow. It was hard, though, to spend time with her mother. Snow White hadn't changed, even after everything Regina forced her to do. Emma knew she felt guilty for every death that was caused by her hand, but Snow White still hoped and still believed and still insisted Killian would come back to her, because that's what true love does.

But Snow didn't know Killian, and as comforting as she tried to be, she didn't know what Emma's relationship with him was like. She didn't understand that it was different to the love shared between her and David, how hard it had been for both of them to move on from their pasts and accept their feelings, how Emma hadn't realised what she felt until she felt  _everything_.

Snow White and Prince Charming had a fairytale, but it was different to Emma's. Even though they had been through a lot, at least they had been destined for a happy ending. And even though Snow claimed otherwise, that it wasn't over, Emma couldn't believe that she was destined for a happy ending.

Because after the last few months, she didn't want to have to fight for the people she loved anymore. She just wanted them there.

Fighting was too hard.

She preferred to be with her father, because he seemed to understand. And she thought, maybe, that he missed Killian too because she knew that even if he hadn't admitted it, he was fond of the pirate.

Emma wondered if maybe it was impossible for him not to be slightly fond of a man that had made her so happy.

~~~*~~~

" _You know, Graham, that no matter what happens, my heart belongs to another." Emma told the huntsman, the two of them waiting for her mother to finish breaking the news of Whitekeep's destruction to the soldiers. "It always will. I don't think there will ever be a day when I don't love him. I will never stop loving him."_

" _Don't worry, Emma." Graham said, and he was smiling, but it was a weak, despairing smile that Emma didn't understand. His eyes were empty, vacant, and she wasn't sure what was wrong. "My heart belongs to another too."_

~~~*~~~

Although Emma had been fine for a week or so, she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed on the day that marked one month since Killian had vanished in front of her.

She knew she had to, as the kingdom was celebrating a month of peace, but she knew she would never be able to rejoice on any anniversary of the day she'd saved her mother, saved the kingdom, and lost Killian.

She hadn't even gotten dressed, having slept the night before in Killian's shirt, something she hadn't done since she lost him and something she had  _needed_ to do when she realised how long it had been.

There was a knock on her door, and Emma rearranged the blankets so that she looked decent, and then called for whoever it was to enter.

It was her father and he was smiling. "There's someone who wants to see you." he said, and Emma shook her head. She didn't want to see anyone. "Normally, Emma, I think I'd let you hide away today. But you'll want to meet this person."

And for a second, Emma believed it had to be Killian, except that Killian wouldn't make her wait like this, wouldn't have made her father come to her first.

"If it's that important, send them in." she ordered, sinking back towards her pillow and not caring that it wasn't befitting of a princess to refuse to get out of bed to greet someone.

Her father grinned even wider and then left her alone in her room.

She wasn't by herself for long, the door to her room creaking open and Emma felt her jaw drop when she saw the messy-haired, elaborately dressed Jefferson standing before her, a wide, smug smirk on his face. "Why hello, Princess. I've come to collect my reward. I happen to know where you can find me." he drawled, and Emma couldn't breathe because if he was  _here_ , she could find Killian. "So nice to see you out and about."

He hadn't changed at all since she last saw him and Emma hadn't felt as hopeful since the day she found Jefferson's home empty.

He didn't give her the opportunity to speak, to beg for his help. "I hear you found my daughter."

"Yes, I did, but-"

"I have an idea." he suggested, stepping closer and perching on the edge of her bed, as far from her as he could reasonably sit without falling off. "How about you introduce me to my daughter, and I'll let you see your pirate?"

"What?" Emma gasped, not having expected the suggestion to come from him. "What do you mean?"

"Imagine my surprise when I got a very badly-written message telling me that there was a chance he would end up trapped in another world. I thought Hook knew better than to make deals with the Dark One, especially ones involving mysterious portals, but then again, I've always given him more credit than he deserves." Jefferson was rambling, and Emma just wanted him to say, for certain, that he knew where Killian was, that they could find him. "But when he told me of a mirror, I knew where he'd be going. He's lucky I'm such a considerate man, because really, expecting a person to traverse Wonderland on the off-chance that their friend has been taken there is asking a bit much, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't even care, Jefferson, not if you can bring me to him." she said, and her voice was choked with excitement. With  _hope_.

And now she knew why her father had been so happy.

"Do you have so little faith in me that you think I've been missing for a month just for laughs?" he asked with a roll of his eyes. "I've done something even better. I've brought him to you. I must admit, he made returning from Wonderland such a hassle, insisting he needed to be back within a month so that he wasn't late again. A thank you would have been more than welcome."

"If he's here, then where is he? Why isn't he with me now?" Emma asked urgently, scrambling out of the bed and ignoring how Jefferson's eyes widened and he coughed pointedly, looking away from her bare legs. She didn't care that she was barely dressed, she couldn't spare the thought.

"That would be my fault." Jefferson said, shrugging and staring determinedly at the floor. "I may have convinced him that you would be better off being prepared for his return. I can't help having a flair for the dramatic. I did want to make it a trade, you know, your pirate for my daughter but Hook told me that was going a bit too far."

And then there was a knock on the door, and Emma couldn't breath because she knew it had to be Killian and she didn't even have to say a word before the door flew open and Killian was there, his hair longer and messier, but otherwise unchanged, and all she could do was stare at him.

He seemed equally entranced by her, taking only one small step into her room and looking her up and down, licking his lips as he took in the image of her in his shirt and then meeting her eyes once more, and Emma felt as if she was burning, but she didn't know what to do, because this moment had seemed an impossibility until only minutes earlier.

"You sent a letter?" she asked, her mouth dry, watching as he took another step closer.

And Jefferson said something, but Emma wasn't listening, and then the hatter was striding past Killian and out of her room, closing the door behind him.

And Killian was there.  _Really_ there. "I'm not late, am I? You didn't want us to be apart for more than a month?"

She hadn't wanted them to be apart at all, not again, but she couldn't be angry when everything was so perfect. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you tell me you had told Jefferson to find you? You had time, you could have. I thought I'd lost you forever."

"I didn't know my letter would reach Jefferson, I didn't know he'd come. Not after I abandoned him." Killian answered, taking another step towards her and Emma couldn't understand why he was approaching her so slowly, but she needed to hear what he had to say. "I hadn't even intended to send a message because I believed so strongly that we would succeed. But you got injured, and I panicked. I lost hope, and I had to take the chance that Jefferson would help. I didn't tell you because you once told me that false hope was worse than no hope at all, and I didn't want to give you that when I had no way of knowing that Jefferson would get the letter, or that he would even find me. I needed to take that moment, what could have been our last moment, to tell you I love you, because if we never saw each other again, that was what you needed to know and what I needed to tell you."

"Killian," Emma whimpered, and he looked worried, taking another step closer to her, so close that she could reach out and touch him, know without any doubt that he was  _real_. "It's been so hard."

"I know." he nodded, and he took one last step and he was right there, his hand rising to caress her cheek, Emma's eyes closing as she leant into the touch. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I need you to know, no matter what happened, even before Jefferson found me, I was searching for a way to come back to you. I wasn't going to give up hope, not this time. Not when I had you to come home to."

She could feel her lips trembling, and she had to kiss him, rising up on her toes to press her lips to his, and it was everything because she'd missed him so much, she'd been drowning without him and now he was here, she wasn't suffocating anymore.

He pulled back before she could deepen the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, and Emma stared at him,  _memorised him_ , and she was crying, she could feel her tears on her cheeks, but for the first time in so long, she was incandescently happy. She felt like she'd spent so long pretending to be happy, forcing herself to be happy, that she'd forgotten how wonderful she could feel.

Because no one loved her the way Killian loved her, and she had so many people she loved but no one she loved the way she loved him.

Without him and Henry, she wasn't complete.

"I wish I had never had to leave you." he murmured, gently kissing each tear away from her face, and Emma sagged into him, allowed herself to fall into him so that he needed to hold her up, hold her to him.

He swept her up into his arms, his hand warm against her thigh, and carried her to the bed, laying her down on it and then kneeling next to her bed and gazing at her and Emma just  _knew_ , for certain, that this had to be the end of their adventure and the start of their happily ever after, and she felt as though she was the princess he was going to awaken from her cursed slumber with a true love's kiss, except she was awake and it was even better because she didn't need any kiss to know they were true love.

"Do you know what I want?" she whispered, and he tilted his head in question, his hand coming to rest on her thigh, his thumb brushing her too sensitive skin as if he was teasing her. Except Emma knew he just needed to touch her, because she needed the same thing, the back of her knuckles brushing his cheek. "I want what we talked about. And we can have that now. There's nothing stopping us."

His smile softened, his hand inched slightly higher up her leg, sending a shiver through Emma, making her  _need_  him, but she wanted this talk first, with him gazing down at her as though she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. "What?" he asked, matching her volume. "You and me and Henry traversing the realms?" She nodded, and his hand moved another few inches, each graze of his thumb torturously close to touching her, to  _undoing_ her. "I have to admit that I've had rather enough of realm-crossing, but traversing the seas would be enough for me. As long as I'm with you."

And then he bent over her and kissed her, like in all the old stories she had been told, just pressing their lips together, a kiss she knew was powerful enough to break any curse.

But it wasn't like the pure true love's kisses she had been told of, not when his hand finally caressed the last few inches of her thigh, his thumb brushing between her legs, and she whined, a low, needy sound that made him chuckle. She fisted her hand in his leather collar, pulling him up from her knees, pulling him over her and kissing him when he finally moved his hand, started to tease her, Emma mewling with each gentle touch. She arched her back, rolled her hips into his touch, breathing his name when he began to press hot, wet kisses down the curve of her neck.

And then his hand stilled, and she moaned, so close to falling apart. "Killian, what?"

"I love you." he murmured, leaning down to brush his nose against hers. "And I don't care if we travel the world or if we stay here in the palace. All I need is to have you by my side."

She smiled shakily, letting go of his collar so she could cup his face in both hands, so that she could meet his eyes and see the way they softened, brightened when he looked at her. "Killian," she breathed, raising her head up to slide her lips across his, deepening the kiss when she felt him try to move closer, to lean down. And then she pulled away, and she beamed up at him, at the man she loved with every single part of her being, the man she had no need to rush with because now she knew they had as much time as they needed. "You have that. You'll  _always_  have that."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! The last chapter ever! I can't believe it's done. I've never completed something as big as this before, and I'm glad people enjoyed it! Thank you to everyone who read it!
> 
> And, of course, thank you to HawkEye733 for betaing every single chapter!

**Epilogue**

Emma and Killian only stayed at the palace for a few weeks after Killian's return, letting Snow and David discuss plans for their wedding. Grace and Jefferson remained there too, attempting to mend a relationship that both desperately wanted to fix, but was too different and strange to return to the way it had been before.

But when Grace and Jefferson left, Killian and Emma realised that spending their days in the palace and planning such a huge celebration wasn't what they wanted. Not yet.

So after a series of tearful goodbyes and promises to return for visits, to one day return for good, Emma, Killian and Henry boarded the Jolly Roger, Jukes remaining as the cook, and they decided to see the world.

Because Killian had planned vengeance for hundreds of years, and Emma had planned rescue missions for months and neither of them wanted to plan anything anymore.

They wanted to see where the wind took them.

And they did. They visited the towns they had stopped in on their first journey together, Emma revelling in spending the time with Killian without worrying about hiding under a cloak, showing Henry the colourful towns she hadn't had the time to explore.

Except they had time now. They sailed slowly, with Killian and Henry often at the wheel until Henry knew how to steer alone, and then they took turns, anchoring every night because they were in no rush.

Some days, they arranged to meet Baelfire at port, because Henry wanted to get to know his father, and Baelfire was equally keen to learn about his son. And although it took a few months for Emma to feel comfortable with Henry returning to Rumplestiltskin's castle for weekends, and as much as she missed him when he was gone, she had to admit that it was wonderful to be able to rent a large room at one of the inns in the port and spend days wrapped up in Killian, taking walks along the shore on the rare occasions they managed to leave their room.

And sometimes Grace and Baelfire would come to them, always together, and Emma would watch the boys play, Killian and Baelfire always on opposing teams during whatever game Henry suggested. They would never be close, and it would never make up for what Killian had done decades before, but Killian told her, when they were cuddled together in their bed, that he was happy that he and Baelfire had managed to be friends again.

After a year together, Henry still talked about siblings, about having a brother or sister he could beat at battleships. They didn't discuss it, but they stopped being careful. Emma was ready, they were both ready, if it happened.

And it was almost two years later, two more years of adventures and trips home and meetings with Baelfire, when Emma knew she was pregnant. So when Henry asked again about a sibling, a question Emma knew was coming after the arrival of Baelfire and Grace's daughter, Emma just smiled at her son.

"Soon." she said, and then looked up to see Killian beaming at her, incredulity and joy in his eyes, and she'd never been happier.

They kept travelling until she was showing, and Emma thrilled in how different this pregnancy was, with Killian at her side. And some days, he worried that he wasn't good enough, and Emma had expected that, but she would reassure him. He would run his hand over her rounded stomach, kiss it, draw vague patterns on it, and whenever he did that, his fear seemed to fade and he would look up at her and grin and look  _so_ excited.

And Emma had never had that last time.

When they got back to the palace, David and Snow doted on her, and Emma remembered they'd done the same before, when she was carrying Henry, but they still couldn't remember. It was new to them, and although they hadn't overwhelmed her the first time, not when she had no one else, it was irritating some days when all she wanted was to curl up in bed beside Killian and let  _him_  look after, let him kiss her and make love to her.

But it was hard to get any alone time once they were back with her family.

And even though Snow seemed even more insistent that they finally marry, constantly reminding them that after three years together, engaged, and with a  _child_  on the way, it would be best for them, and for the kingdom, for their wedding to be as soon as possible.

They still didn't get married, telling Snow that it would happen when it happened, the way everything else had, and no matter how unsure her mother was about their answer, they were happy the way things were.

They were  _very_ happy.

It was Emma's suggestion to name their son Liam, and when Killian heard it, he had bent down to kiss her first and then their son. He took the baby in his arms carefully, his hook abandoned on the table nearby, and murmured nonsense down to him, an entranced look in his eyes that Emma had never seen before, that was just for Liam.

And when Henry was holding his brother, Killian came and he kissed her again and he told her that he loved her, loved their family, more than he could have believed possible.

David was playfully annoyed when they told him their son's full name, Liam Jefferson, as he seemed to have hoped that his name would be there, but once Henry pointed out that David was his middle name and it would be strange for both brothers to be called the same thing, David let it go.

Despite having a fully furnished nursery ready, Liam spent the first few months in a crib in their room. Emma woke one morning to see Killian perched on the side of the bed, Liam in his arms, and whispering stories to him, telling their son of his adventures. She crawled across the bed to him, feeling Killian shiver when she wrapped her arms around his waist, her chin on his shoulder.

"How's our little pirate?" she murmured, but Killian sighed and turned his head to plant a kiss to her cheek.

"Don't call him that." Killian stated, although he smiled softly when Emma moved her arm so that she could brush her thumb gently across their son's cheek. "He's too perfect. He's too good to be called a pirate. How can we call him something that we would call a villain?"

"Our little prince, then?"

But once Killian had laid Liam back down in his cot, Emma pulled her fiancé back to her, into her arms, and told him, sincerely, that being called a pirate wasn't a bad thing. That she knew, from experience, that some pirates were heroes.

Eventually, they took their first trip together on the Jolly Roger since Liam's birth, the first time Emma and Liam had accompanied Killian and Henry on a small trip, and Henry steered the boat the whole time.

Emma couldn't believe how quickly Henry was growing up, but she was glad he had found something he loved, having told them only days before that he would be joining the kingdom's navy once he was old enough. She did wish that he'd had a choice, but he no longer had the option to be the ruler he had once been meant to be, not since it was taken from him when Rumplestiltskin made the world forget. She liked to think that Henry would have chosen such a path anyway.

And it turned out that calling Liam their little pirate would have been a bad idea, because after only minutes at sea, they discovered he got terribly seasick on even the shortest journeys.

So sailing remained something that Killian only did with Henry, and although he never said it, Emma knew that Henry was glad that he had something that he shared with Killian and no one else.

Instead, Killian told Liam stories, tales of adventures in other realms, the legends behind each star and the constellations in the night sky. Except Liam was only little, had just turned three, and he decided that he liked the tale of the pirate and the princess best.

And Emma was glad about that, because that was their story, and she loved to hear Killian tell it too.

Henry was almost eighteen, Liam four, when David and Snow announced their plans to abdicate and give the throne to Emma. And it was that same day that Emma and Killian led their children, Emma's parents and Jukes to the minister, because Emma wanted all the kingdoms to know that she had chosen Killian to be at her side.

And they promised forever to each other, something they knew they were going to have, something they  _already_ had. Killian kissed her before being told to kiss the bride, but Emma didn't care, she just clung to him, kissed him back deeper, and muttered "I love you, sailor" when she pulled back, and he replied with "You too, sweetheart"

David cried and hugged them both. Henry grinned and told them it was about time.

"I'm so glad you finally have your happy ending." Snow White told Emma that evening, as she was sitting and watching Killian and Henry talk, Liam fast asleep in her lap.

Emma didn't reply. She didn't need to.

She'd found her happy ending years ago.


End file.
